Because You're the Only Hope for Me
by thexredxrose
Summary: What does it mean when you meet a guy after watching him get fired? And who then immediately becomes your best friend? And who you unexpectedly, irrationally, irrevocably, are falling in love with? A Frerard from Frank's POV gerard mcr my chemical romance
1. Collision

_Disclaimer_**: Own, I do not the members of My Chemical Romance or the Used. Neither do I own any of the song lyrics contained within this document. Don't sue me, don't steal, and have fun. :)**

**Because You're the Only Hope for Me**

_The Collision_

_of_

_Frank Iero_

_and _

_Gerard Way_

_If there's a place that I could be_

_Then I'd be another memory._

_Can I be the only hope for you,_

_Because you're the only hope for me?_

_And if we can't find where we belong,_

_We'll have to make it on our own,_

_Face all the pain and take it on,_

_Because the only hope for me is you alone._

_Collision_

I was feeling pretty low.

Basically this whole day has kind of sucked. Not that anything particularly bad ever happened; it's all been little stuff, random things happening all throughout my morning and midday that had finally built up to make this day suck.

I was wearing my hood over my head as I walked into the music store for some much-needed solace. I was with a couple friends; well, they were sort of my friends. I didn't really care about them. I don't think they really cared about me. One of them was skipping school to be here with us; he seemed totally psyched to be out of school. I would almost give being back in school just for something to do. I would have graduated a few months ago had I not flunked at the last minute. The school told me I had to take 12th grade over again. I refused to do it. "I'm never going to college," I stated when my parents asked how failing school would ultimately affect my life. "So it doesn't matter whether I finish school or not." And it didn't, I told myself. I didn't care about what I was learning in school; they weren't really even teaching us anything. All I cared about was music; music was my life, as much music as I could take in each day, surrounding myself with it. I played guitar, I played bass. Now I'm in a music store. You do the math.

I wasn't feeling as interested in the store as I normally would have. I had been here three days ago. The company didn't help either. The guys were hyper, darting between displays almost the second we were in the door, talking and laughing in loud voices. Another loud voice cut through my stupor. I raised my eyes, lined in red, to the direction of the voice. A largish man was yelling at a shorter, paler man behind the front desk. The other man was pale…did I say that already…? well he was deathly pale, like, vampiric almost, with raven hair that fell unkempt to his shoulders. He was wearing a dark hoodie and a dark shirt underneath. I could see the top of his dark jeans; his eyes were lined in faded black, like he may have been wearing the same liner for several days. He was taking the larger man's words pretty well, I thought, considering the larger man was screaming in his face. I couldn't discern what exactly the vampire guy had done to deserve this manic treatment, but at least he was taking it well. I wondered if he was used to it.

"Yo, Frankie, check this!"

I looked over to my friend, very much not caring what he had to show me. I realized in the back of my mind that I was far more interested in the verbal abuse behind the counter than whatever this guy thought was interesting.

It was some new album. From some band. I didn't even care who it was.

I heard a new voice start shouting. I looked back quickly and saw the vampire coming back in the other guy's face, spitting his response as though he had been holding himself back from saying these things for as long as the other man had been yelling at him. I couldn't hear his words over the loud music in the store, but I felt like he was justified in whatever he was saying. He looked strong, like he was completely convinced he was right.

He finished. They stared each other down for a few seconds. Then the larger man pointed. He just pointed. His fat, stubby finger was aiming into the office behind the counter. The other man looked from the office back to him, then stormed into the room without a word. He emerged carrying a beaten leather jacket. He stepped passed the larger man without sparing him a glance, and walked out into the rest of the store, moving towards the door.

I wasn't paying attention. I wasn't _thinking_. I didn't move, and he must not have noticed me - the consequences of being short - and before I realized what was happening, he had slammed into me, almost sending me sprawling.

"Oh," he said, sounding a little stunned. "Oh, man, I'm sorry, I didn't see you."

"It's okay," I responded, rubbing my arm a little where we'd collided. "I should have moved, I didn't see you either."

"You didn't hear me?" he asked with a bemused little smile, glancing over his shoulder at the large man, who was attending to another customer with a sour look on his face.

"Oh, yeah," I said. "I'm sorry. Did he…fire you?"

"Yeah," he said, sounding unconcerned. "But it doesn't matter."

"Why?" I asked, and then thought maybe I should clarify. "Why'd he fire you?"

"No reason," he responded, blowing a strand of ebony hair out of his face. "And I don't care. Crappy job anyway."

"Mm," I said, hearing my friends shouting somewhere behind me. I think they might have been shouting at me.

"Those you're friends?" the vampiric man asked.

I shrugged. "I guess," I said.

"Hey, Frankie, come look at this!"

"Well, I guess I better leave," the vampire was saying, looking back at the counter, from behind which the large man was glaring at him, his arms crossed angrily. "Before he calls someone to kick me out."

"What are you going to do now?" I asked impulsively. That question wasn't even in my mind until I heard my own mouth saying the words.

The vampire shrugged. "Buy some coffee. Maybe walk to the park. Why?"

I smiled a little. "I kind of meant long term."

"Oh. I don't know. Find another job, I guess." He shrugged. "Anyway…" He turned with a little wave and walked towards the sliding doors. I sighed and turned back to my friends. My…those people I know. They were shouting for me again. I did not want to come and join them.

"Hey…"

I looked back quickly; the vampire was standing within the first sliding door, looking back at me. "Do you…maybe, wanna get some coffee with me?"

_I…what?_ was my only somewhat coherent thought before my mind was taken over in a whirl of strange emotions. He wants to get coffee with me? We barely even met. I don't even know his name!

"Hey Frankie!"

"Yeah," I said firmly to him, my mind suddenly made up. I stepped away from my wild acquaintances, towards this pale, dark-clothed enigma that I had just watched get fired less than a minute ago. "I would."

"Cool," he said, a smile of relief crossing his features. I joined him at the sliding doors. I think I heard one of the guys call, "Frank?" uncertainly as I was walking out, but I didn't really care. They had the car to get home.

I stepped out beside my new companion into the brisk autumn breeze. It was more chill than normal, and he pulled his leather jacket on quickly.

"The best coffee place is just down the street," he said, rubbing his pale, long-fingered hands together. "You'll like it."

I mumbled something obligatory. Some back part of my mind was shouting at me that this was insane, randomly going for coffee with a random person I had just watched get fired. He could be about to kill me, or take me back in an ally and suck my blood, which honestly seemed more likely. The man was so pale, I just couldn't get over it. Had he ever seen the light of day?

"I'm Gerard, by the way," he added, stopping his manic friction to offer me his right hand.

"Frank Iero," I responded, taking his hand. It was deathly cold, colder than mine.

"So, do you normally take random requests from random people to go out and get coffee?" he - Gerard - asked. "'Cuz I just realized that was pretty random. I understand if you wanna leave and go back to the music store."

_And those freaks I came here with? No way._ "No. And no, I don't, not really. You're not a mass murderer, are you?"

"No," he said, laughing a little as though he thought being considered a mass murderer was rather funny.

I realized I thought it was too, and laughed a little with him. "Well, I am," I said, sliding my hand into the side of my red hoodie like I was reaching for a hidden gun. "And I only agreed to come so I can add you to my list of rotting corpses."

"You keep a list?" he asked.

I nodded. "I keep a book of the names, and those only go so far till you bury them," I said, still nodding sadistically.

He laughed very quietly. "That's really clever, actually. Those are good words."

"Um…thanks," I said, wondering if he wrote poetry or something.

"Oh, this is it," he said, pointing towards a small shop on our right and altering his course towards the front door. By the way he moved, it was almost like the shop was a magnet, and he was the metal. "Coffee," he whispered as he pushed open the door, not seeming to realize he was even speaking. I smiled a little. I liked his subconscious whispering.

"Hey, Gerard," said the red-haired girl behind the counter, looking up briefly from her screen before returning attention to her current customer.

"Hey, Roberta," Gerard called across the room. First name basis. Friends, lovers, or Gerard really loves this coffee shop.

I breathed in the heavenly scent of coffee beans, chocolate, and cake. I can understand why he loves it.

Gerard waited in Roberta's line even though hers was slightly longer than the one to our right. The look she gave him - amiable, but without a smile - made me think definitely not lovers. That look was far from romantic.

"Uh, tall cappuccino…how's life, Roberta?"

"Same. How's yours?"

"I just got fired."

"Harsh." She didn't sound like she thought it was. She almost sounded like she would love to get fired.

"You should take the man some coffee, tell him you're sorry," a guy in the back called to Gerard, looking up briefly from fixing Gerard's order.

"And throw it in his face!" Gerard snapped back, laughing a little. That brought the smallest quirk to Roberta's mouth. Almost a smile.

"What'd you do?"

"Nothing. Just the usual."

"Agh. Your boss is a d…"

"Roberta!" a faint voice shouted from a small room to the side. "What did we say about customer relations and company policy?"

"Sorry." She leaned closer to Gerard and whispered, "Your boss is an ass-hole."

Gerard laughed a little. "I'm aware."

The teenager in the back leaned around Roberta to set Gerard's coffee on the counter. Gerard thanked him as he pulled out his wallet. He paid and took the coffee, stepping aside for me to order.

I started to open my mouth, my eyes on the board and all the awesome hot caffeine-and-sugar I could potentially order, when I realized that I had no money with me. I had left it all at home, all five dollars of it, determined not to spend it all while I was out with my sort-of friends. "Um…" I said, a little embarrassed. "Never mind. I don't have any cash…"

I stepped aside, but Gerard stopped me, looking very concerned. "I'll pay for it. No one should ever have to go without coffee."

I would have refused him - I mean, I normally would have refused anyone, but I had had such a bad day, and I was already doing slightly insane things, so I might as well do more. "Okay," I said, stepping back towards the counter. "Thanks."

We walked back outside into the wind and the grey atmosphere, the cold no longer effective on us with the charm of hot cups of coffee in our hands. The wind kind of bites, though – I'm only wearing my hoodie as outerwear. Gerard looks unconcerned in his leather jacket.

"So, do you like music?" I asked, wondering if we had anything in common besides our similar clothes - he was wearing black skinny jeans that were slightly too big for his slim hips and worn Converse, like me, besides our obvious eye make-up.

"Yeah, a lot," he said. "What kind of bands do you like?"

"Mm, screamo, metal heads, punk. Black Flag, the Misfits…"

"No way, I love the Misfits!"

"Get out," I said, wanting to push him but too concerned about spilling coffee. "They're one of my favorite bands."

"Yeah, mine too. And I've been listening to a lot of Metallica recently. My friend Ray…I blame him."

I laughed a little. "Metallica's cool. You like Iron Maiden?"

Music carried us down the streets of the city, and when I looked up at our location again, I saw we were on the sidewalk outside of the park. Gerard had been serious about going to the park on a day as dreary and dark as this one.

Gerard drained the last of his coffee and tossed the empty cup into a trash can. I clung to my almost-empty cup as I followed him over the fence onto the grass around the swing set. Gerard claimed one of the swings, wrapping his arm around one chain, and I sat down on the one next to him. I had to jump to make it; my feet swung several inches above the ground.

"So, do you have a job?" Gerard asked, rubbing the back of his head. He was musing over being fired, I could tell.

"Not really," I said awkwardly. "I just got out of school."

"Oh, okay."

"Do you go to college?" I asked, not really sure my exact reasoning for bringing up that subject.

"No," he said, shaking his head. "I mean, I used to. For like two years."

"What'd you take?" I asked, wondering what he was interested in.

"I went to art school," he said, shrugging.

"That's cool," I said.

"So are you going to college?" Gerard asked after a moment.

I shook my head. "I don't think so. I didn't finish school, so it's not like I can anyway."

"You could," Gerard responded gently. It struck me as really nice of him to say that.

"But I don't really want to," I finished. "I'd rather just…play music," I muttered, trying and failing to kick the rocks below my feet.

"You play music?"

"Guitar, yeah. It's awesome, I love it."

Gerard laughed a little, looking at his shoes. "I can sort of play. Kind of. I'm not any good."

"Oh, come on," I said, glancing at him. "I'm sure you're fine."

He laughed again. "No, I suck at guitar. My brother, Mikey, though…he plays bass. He's awesome."

"Cool," I said, smiling a little.

Gerard brushed his hair back from his face, but it only fell back again. I loved the contrast between those two features; his ebony hair to his ivory skin. It was gorgeous.

Wait, was I just staring at Gerard? Oh em gee, I think I was. I blushed a little turned determinedly away, throwing my empty coffee cup to the far end of the gravel.

The wind was starting to pick up. I rubbed my arms.

"It's cold," Gerard stated, as though he had only just realized that. "Let's go somewhere else."

I jumped down from my swing and grabbed my coffee cup before it could blow away on the wind. "I'm into that. Hoodies are not good in wind."

"No," he agreed.

Shivering, we made our way back up the street towards the coffee shop and the music store. I scanned the parking lot for my friend's red car; I didn't see it. Great. I'd have to walk home.

Gerard stepped purposely in front of me, brushing past while rubbing his arms, shivering, purposely guiding me to the right. I followed him up to a beaten Subaru. He stood outside the door, using the car as a windbreak. "Do you need a ride somewhere?" he asked me, still shivering slightly, his teeth chattering together.

I should have said no, but I just nodded, too cold for words.

Gerard seemed to have reached that point as well, because he just turned and unlocked the car. I ran around the side to the passenger's door. He opened it from the inside and I threw myself in.

It didn't feel as cold inside his car as out. I think it was the lack of wind.

Gerard shivered again, rubbing his arms together, and shifted a few things around in his car, throwing some junk into the backseat, searching for his keys, which he had somehow managed to lose between unlocking the car and now. He finally found them, fallen between his seat and the arm rest; he turned the key in the ignition and his car shakily grumbled to life.

Rock music blasted from the stereo, filling the air around us.

"Okay," he said, turning in his seat so he could see out the rear window as he pulled backwards. "Just tell me where to go."

I gave him directions as we drove; I was tired, so I almost missed like, half of the turns. Finally he pulled up just outside my house.

I sat still for a moment, too tired to move. It was five. It was after five. I don't know. It doesn't matter. "Thanks, Gerard," I said, finally reaching and cracking the door.

"Don't mention it," he said.

I glanced back at him. Strangely, I didn't wanna leave. His car was warm and comfortable, whereas outside was chill and breezy. Kind of an easy choice to make.

"I guess I'll see you sometime," I said, pushing the door farther open with my foot. It was so cold outside. I irrationally wanted to stay here in Gerard's beaten Subaru listening to rock music forever.

"Yeah," he said, sounding numb, which somehow broke me enough from my own numbness to push the door the rest of the way open and climb out. "Hey, Frank?"

I stopped, looking back into the car. Gerard was hurriedly writing on a small scrap of shiny paper that looked like a gas receipt. "Here's my number," he said, holding it out to me. "If you ever wanna call."

I reached out for it, grasping it in my hand.

"You know," he added, smiling as he let it go. "If you ever feel like randomly going to get coffee with a random person again."

"Thanks," I said, smiling.

I honestly felt good as I walked up the steps toward my house. Despite the fact that I was irrationally exhausted and that the wind was biting my skin through my red hoodie, I felt warm. Happy, almost. Like today hadn't actually sucked so bad after all.

I crumpled the gas receipt with its new seven-digit number written on it, and slipped it into my pocket.

**This fic is a distraction. It's distracting me. I'm writing another MCR fic right now called The Way of the Walking Dead. I just brought LynZ into that fic. I love LynZ and I'm excited to write about her, and I have some scenes already planned. But...then I read the awesome high school Frerards that are You Know What They Do to Guys Like Us in Prison by Muttly13 and High School by CosmicZombie, and all I want to do is put Gerard in random situations that involve Frank randomly kissing him. Argh! This is bad. So I started writing this the other night, after midnight. I felt like I should post it, even though it's not very good, for all of my fans who are waiting for an update on WotWD and won't get one, because of this. I thought I should share. So here it is. I'll keep updating until I lose interest; hopefully I'll finish it as that happens and then go back to WotWD, my Frerard fires all burnt out. We'll see. XD**

**Xoxo,**

**Rebel Rose**


	2. Basket Case

_Basket Case_

I awoke the next day feeling somewhat more like my usual self. I immediately thought of Gerard, and the number that was still in my pocket. I was seized by the fear that the receipt he had written it on would remain forgotten in my pocket until I threw my jeans in the wash, in which case the number would be lost and forgotten forever. Unable to lie still with that disaster on my mind, I rose and searched through my discarded jeans until I found the receipt. I pulled it out and checked the number, wanting to know it was still there. It was, the thick black ink a stark contrast to the shiny white of the receipt paper. I folded it and placed it on my desk, and left my room.

You can't call someone you've just met the day after you meet them, I slapped myself, as I wandered through the empty house that day. My mom was gone, working; it was a Tuesday. There was nothing to do and no one to do it with. Except maybe Gerard. I couldn't imagine what he would be doing right now, although that did nothing to stop me from trying. I saw him in my mind, sitting at home, as bored and lonely as I was feeling…if Gerard got lonely. It was hard to tell. Maybe he was doing something artistic, since he had gone to art school.

Maybe he liked solitude.

Or maybe he wasn't alone. Not everyone is as hopeless and lonely as I am. And Gerard is a nice guy, he's probably got friends over.

Although why is it that all the mean or obnoxious ones are the ones always surrounded by friends, and people like Gerard that are always left on their own?

Maybe he tried to get his job back.

I doubted that.

I couldn't shake the imagine of him sitting alone at home with nothing to do and no one to talk to. Like me.

I called the number.

I heard him answer, but there was a pause before he said anything. "…Hello?"

The fact that he answered threw me somehow. Had I not expected him to answer his phone? "…Hey. Hey, it's Frank. Frank Iero."

He seemed to recognize me before I finished saying my name. "Oh, hey, Frank," he said, sounding comfortable. I could hear loud music in the back of his call, but I couldn't make out at all what it was.

"Um, what's happening today?"

"Nothing," he answered, still sounding casual, comfortable. I was glad I hadn't caught him off-guard, or anything. He didn't seem creeped out by my random call. "I would be at work today, but considering…"

I snorted. He was so calm about his state of recently fired. "You're not looking for a job, then?"

"Nah. I just got fired. Might as well take off for a week before I start searching again."

That made perfect sense to me. "Yeah, that's probably what I would do," I said, grinning. I was glad I had called.

"Not that there's anywhere I'd particularly want to work," he added morosely. I was imagining him picking disinterestedly at the fabric of a worn couch.

"What are you listening to?" I asked, my love for music and intense curiousity getting the better of me.

"Mikey," he answered. I could hear a faint smile in his voice.

"M - " I almost asked, wondering what band that was.

"My brother. He's playing bass right now." Oh yeah, I remembered him telling me his brother played bass. I knew that. "I wish you were here, you could get the full effect. He's really good."

Did he just say he wished I was there? I wished I was there too.

"Maybe you could even play with him. You play guitar, right?"

"Yeah," I said, my mouth suddenly dry with anticipation. Gerard, I could potentially see Gerard today. And play music with somebody else! That would be so beyond awesome, I can't even…

"Do you wanna come over?"

He sounded eager.

As was I. "Yes," I said, without thinking about it. "Yeah, definitely. Um…how do I get to your house?"

"Mine's not far from yours. I could drive you over if you want."

Yes. Yes I would freaking love that. "Yeah, that'd be awesome."

"Okay, I'll be there in a few minutes."

"Okay."

I heard a faint sound, which made me think of him breathing out as he smiled. "Okay, I'll see you." He disconnected the call.

It took me a second longer than usual to lower my phone from my ear. Oh my god. I'm going now, I'm going to play music with someone else…Gerard's younger brother, even! Just seeing Gerard again would make me happy, but to play music thrown into the deal. This was awesome.

I ran upstairs to get my guitar out of my room. I had a gleaming, white Epiphone Les Paul Standard. I had named her Pansy. She was fantastic, I adored her. I grasped my guitar by its familiar neck, moving to my amp to unjack the cable. I had a 2x12 Marshall amplifier that I had bought at a pawn shop. It was too much for me to carry with my guitar simultaneously. I closed the guitar in its case, coiling my cable and setting it over the strings. I grabbed the guitar case and descended the stairs.

I thought maybe I should leave a note for my mom. Leaving the guitar by the door, I sprinted into the kitchen, grabbing a note pad and a pen and began scribbling a quick note. _Met someone new the other day. He lives really close by. Going to play guitar with his brother. Be back_

Um…yeah, I have no idea when I'll be back. _before dark_, I scribble, not really certain it's the truth. It's two o'clock now. I don't know, though, I love music, I could easily play for hours…and what time I spent playing, I wouldn't be talking to Gerard, and I had to talk to him. It had only been a day, but I realized suddenly that I really liked him. That maybe he was the best friend I have. Which is kind of lame, if you think about it. No, you don't even have to think about it. It's pretty lame. But I also suddenly didn't care.

There was a knock on my door. Three solid knocks. Gerard.

I ran to the door, almost silent on my bare feet, taking the note with me. I felt a tingling rush of excitement as I stood before the door, knowing that Gerard was standing mere feet away from me, the only thing separating us the closed door in front of me.

I turned the door handle.

Gerard was standing on the front porch, his hands in his back pockets, admiring the outside of my house.

"Hey," he said when the door opened.

"Hey," I said, slightly breathless from running around the house for the past five minutes.

"You need any help with anything?"

_He's asking? Nobody ever asks me._ "Yeah, carry this," I said, thrusting my guitar case into his hand. "My amp's upstairs…"

"And you might want some shoes," he smiled, letting himself into the house behind me. I tried to ignore the idea of Gerard free downstairs in my house and sprinted up to my room.

The amp was heavy and I'm small. I'm like, five four. So yeah, it was not an easy task lifting it and carrying it downstairs, but I pretended it was easy. He smiled when he caught sight of me. "Mikey's excited," he said, holding my guitar case upright with one hand. "He almost never gets to play with anyone, except when our uncle comes down, so he's completely thrilled."

"Cool," I said, smiling too, before I could stop myself. "Are you gonna play with us?" I asked, setting the amp down and crossing to the wall just in front of him, where I'd left my Converse.

"I don't really play anything," he said, letting his hair fall across his face as he turned away. He obviously considered himself lame.

"I'm sure we could think of something for you to do," I said, glancing up and giving him a quick smile as I pulled on my shoes.

He smiled back, and took up my guitar case. "You ready?"

"Yeah, let's go."

We packed my gear into the back of his Subaru and began to drive. The stereo was on like yesterday - I wondered if he ever turned it off - but quieter now. Quiet enough for conversation.

"So, I'm showing you where my house is, but you must promise not to kill me in my sleep and add me to your book of names."

"Oh, but your name would look so good in my book," I responded. "Geraaaard…what's your last name?"

"Way," he said, taking a left turn onto another street.

"Gerard Way," I said, tasting the words. That actually was a brilliant name. "Oh yes, your name will look fantastic in my book."

He laughed a little, grabbing a cigarette from the open pack in a small box near the gear shift, specifically designed to catch random junk, like his cigarettes. "There's more if you want one," he said to me, glancing my way briefly before carefully pulling out his lighter, cigarette between his lips, and lighting up.

I had only had a few cigarettes in my life, but I had liked them, liked the calm they had set over me. Not that I wanted to be calm right now; I loved the excited high I was on in anticipation of the music I was about to play, but I did want one. And I was going to smell like cigarettes anyway, thanks to him.

"Thanks," I said, taking one.

He held the lighter out to me, but instead of handing it to me, he clicked it for me, turning the wheel with the other hand, his cigarette between his teeth.

I leaned over the lighter and breathed the cigarette into life. I loved the way his fingers moved as he clicked the lighter out. He has long fingers…perfect for playing guitar, I thought, if he wasn't so convinced he sucked at it. And his skin was pale. He was beautiful.

Wait, did I just think that?

But he was. And not like beautiful in a stereotypical sort of way. Like, he wasn't beautiful. But he freaking was; his skin was so pale and his hair was so dark, and his eyes were so pretty. His hands were beautiful. And his expressions were nice, and the way his lip twisted as he talked. They were all little things about him, about who he was, that made him beautiful.

I shook myself. Yes, I can appreciate that Gerard is a beautiful guy, but I should probably also stop thinking about it.

And then we were pulling up outside his house. Gerard parked in the driveway, which was at an angle so extreme that I felt like we had stopped on the upslope of a roller coaster. "Nice driveway," I said, grinning at him as he opened the door.

He laughed a little. "Yeah, I have no explanation for the tilt. My apologies."

"No, I like it," I said, trying to climb out without looking awkward. "Um…" I opened the back door. I felt him come around behind me to help carry.

"I'll get the amp," he said. "You know, so you can carry your guitar."

"Yeah, thanks, man," I said, grabbing my guitar case.

I heard a door open and glanced up at the house. A guy with unkempt dark brown hair and glasses was standing in the doorway; he was tall and wearing skinny jeans that he was slightly too skinny for.

"Hey, guys," he said, coming down the steps, his bare feet making me cold just by looking at them on the concrete drive. "Need help with anything?"

"Nope, we've got it," Gerard answered, emerging from the backseat of the car with my amplifier in one hand. He kicked the door closed and gestured to who was obviously his brother. "Frank, this is Mikey, my brother. Mikes, this is my friend, Frank."

"Hey," said Mikey, shaking my guitar-free hand a little shyly. "Nice to meet you and all that shit."

"Hey," I said, shaking back. I liked Mikey already.

We returned to the house behind Mikey, who sprinted the last few yards, probably because his bare feet were freezing. "Our parents are at work today, so we can be as loud as we want," he said as he tried to open the door. The door was one of those ugly, half-screen door in front of a normal door affairs. The screen one apparently preferred to remain closed. Probably rebelling against the cold weather that it was so not made for.

Mikey grasped the handle with both hands, tugging forcefully, and at last the door flew open. Mikey cleared his throat, holding the door open for us. "Sorry. After you guys."

Gerard opened the inner door and let himself in. I followed, looking around the Ways' house. It was simple, and…I guess plain, but it didn't _feel_ plain. It felt lived in, and loved. Like a real family actually lived here.

"Hey, you moved into the living room," I heard Gerard calling, and as I came around the open door I saw that he was standing in the middle of the living room, which was open to the rest of the house, where the coffee table had been pushed to the side and Mikey's bass guitar was leaning against the couch. It was already plugged in to his amp across the room.

"Cool bass," I said to Mikey as I came in. I don't know a lot about bass guitars…since I prefer regular guitar…but I could see that it was from Fender's Precision series. That was cool.

"Thanks," said Mikey, closing the door behind us and coming into the living room, his hands in his pockets. "What kind of guitar do you have?"

"Epiphone Les Paul," I said, grinning as I set the case down and flipped the clasps, throwing it open with a flourish. I was proud of my guitar.

"Sweet," said Mikey appreciatively, leaning over to admire it before I grabbed it out of the case, throwing the strap over my shoulder.

"Can I put your amp over here?" Gerard asked, looking expectantly from where he was standing next to Mikey's amp.

"Yeah, sure," I said. "Here, plug me in," I said, throwing him the end of my cable.

I jacked the other end into my guitar as he set up my amplifier. Mikey returned to the couch and grabbed his bass. "So, Gee said you like the Misfits, Black Flag, that sort of stuff?" he said.

"Yeah. You like the same?"

"Yeah, Misfits are awesome. Do you know Helena?"

"Yeah, that's a great song!"

"You wanna play it?"

I agreed and dove into the song. Mikey looked a little off-guard, and I realized with faint embarrassment that I probably should have counted in. I was too excited to deal with trifles like that. But he jumped in quickly, a faint smile playing over his face as he worked the strings. The song was engaging enough that it didn't matter if we played without vocals. It was loud and it was fun. I danced around the living room a little, caught up in the ecstasy of playing. Mikey was steady, carefully staying out of my way but obviously enjoying the music just as much as I was. Occasionally, out of the corner of my eye, I would notice Gerard watching us from where he had been standing by the amplifiers when we had started playing. There was a deep look in his eyes that I wondered about, but was too busying having fun to worry over.

The song ended with one last, loud note. Mikey and I hit it at exactly the same time…which I know is how music is supposed to be played and stuff, with both musicians counting and landing on the same notes at the same times, but the few times I've played with other people, I've found that it doesn't always work out that way. I looked up at Mikey. He was still smiling faintly in the aftermath of our wild music, his eyes gleaming. "Frank, you're really good," he said, looking shyly down at his bass strings.

"Thanks, Mikey, but, dude, I think _you're_ really good, that was awesome!"

"Thanks," he said, blushing a little.

"That was great, you guys," said Gerard, his voice quiet and gentle. I had almost forgotten he was standing back there, watching us. He was sitting down now, his back to the wall, his arms around his knees.

"Dude, you should play with us," I said.

"Eh," he said, shrugging the idea off. "I'm really not that good, I'd just mess you up."

"Hey, do you like Green Day at all?" Mikey asked me, a sort of skeptical look on his face.

"Yeah, Green Day's good."

"Eh, Gerard isn't really into them. Or their newer stuff anyway," he said, glancing Gerard's way **(lol. Gerard's way. I didn't even realize what I was writing until I'd written it.) **and giving him a quick smile that was just a little bit mocking. "But, yeah, their first album was awesome. Do you know Basket Case?"

"Hellz yeah."

"Do you…sing at all?"

"Yeah, I guess I can," I said, shrugging. If it had been a different song I probably wouldn't have agreed to sing it, but Green Day was fun.

I took a deep breath, and all at once started to strum a fast rhythm, and sang,

"_Do you have the time_

_To listen to me whine_

_About nothing and everything_

_All at once?_

_I am one of those_

_Melodramatic fools_

_Neurotic to the bone,_

_No doubt about it_."

There was a brief pause while I continued strumming, then I looked back up (even though I didn't have a microphone, I felt obliged to place my mouth near where it would be if there was one), and sang the chorus. I was kind of surprised to hear Mikey singing in the background.

"_Sometimes I give myself the creeps._

_Sometimes my mind plays tricks on me._

_It all keeps adding up,_

_I think I'm cracking up._

_Am I just paranoid,_

_Or am I just stoned?_"

I glanced Mikey's way **(argh! I'm doing it again!)**, sharing a quick grin. This was a good song. And it sounded GOOD with his bass in it.

The song ended on a down stroke, and we danced randomly around the room while it faded out.

"Hey, do you know Seven Nation Army, by the White Stripes?" I asked.

"The White Stripes don't have a bass player," Mikey answered, blushing and laughing a little.

"Oh, yeah, I forgot about that," I added, laughing at my own lack of a brain today.

"Hey, Gerard, what's that song you like to sing so much?" Mikey asked, turning toward his brother, who was still watching us from the wall. "Going to California! Led Zeppelin." Mikey turned to me, looking excited. "Can you play that one?"

"Um…" I said. I was more punk than Led Zeppelin, but I'd heard the song before. "Maybe…" I stomped my amplifier to a clean channel, adjusted the tone of my guitar, and started to mess with some chords, picking the notes awkwardly with my fingers. I thought it sounded kind of like Going to California…I changed to a new chord, and it was an epic fail compared to my former one. I glanced up at Mikey, giving him a self-deprecating and sarcastic look. But he and Gerard were both watching me intently, listening to what I was playing. So I went back to my work, this time with a little more dedication. I thought I kind of had it, or at least what was close to it. Chord-wise, anyway. I started to get a little more confident with what I had, and then I heard something that knocked me back and took my breath away.

"_Spent my days with a woman unkind,_

_Smoked my stuff and drank all my wine._"

Gerard's voice. Oh. My. God. His voice sounded…_amazing_. He was, like, not even trying to make it sound good or anything, it was just him, his honest voice. It was kind of husky and imperfect…like everything else about Gerard. Perfectly imperfect.

_"Made up my mind to make a new start, _

_Going to California with an aching in my heart._"

It took all my concentration to keep playing while listening intently to Gerard's voice, drinking in every word, every sound and inflection. I didn't know the song well enough to recognize all the words, or even know where the song was going, so it was almost like hearing it for the first time while he was singing. Or like hearing a song from a dream, like déjà vu, something you recognize but don't have a real reason why, something that you love to hear and crave desperately to hear more.

"_Someone told me there's a girl out there,_

_With love in her eyes, and flowers in her hair._"

Mikey started to play a little bass in the background, keeping it subtle. So I messed around a little bit for the instrumental part. I wasn't very good, but whatever. Musical fusion highs make me fearless. I was fearless enough to do something to this song that was almost blasphemous. I kicked it into overdrive.

My clean chords became hard rock riffs. Mikey was so fast; the man was brilliant, he jumped right in with me, almost like we had planned it this way instead of me randomly pulling it out of the air. Gerard banged his head to the music a little, and he started to sing louder, his voice jumping towards a falsetto as he tried to maintain some control over his rushing emotions.

"_Took my chances on a big jet plane,_

_Never let 'em tell you that there all, that they're all the same._

_The sea was red and the sky was grey,_

_I wonder how tomorrow could ever follow today?_

_The mountains and the canyons start to tremble and shake,_

_The children of the sun begin to awake._"

I glanced up at him, playing a quick riff before the next line. The next line was loud, and it was like, some kind of climbing bass-line, I think, if I remember right. I wasn't really sure what to _do_. I turned to Mikey, watching his fingers as he guessed at the right notes.

"_It seems like the wrath of the gods _

_Got a punch on the nose_

_And it started to flow,_

_I think I might be sinking!_

_Throw me a line,_

_If I reach it in time, _

_I'll meet you up there_

_Where the path runs straight and high._"

Mikey and I started riffing. I threw in a lot of chords that did not belong in the original song. We head banged our way around the whole living room, slamming guitar chords and bass lines, and then finally we remembered we should slow down and let Gerard finish singing. I almost quieted too quickly, I was so eager to hear him sing again.

He was standing up now; he looked so beaten, so innocent and down-trodden as he stood, his eyes down cast but smoldering.

"_I'll be a king, I'll find a queen,_

_We'll play guitars, and cry and sing._

_La la la, la la la la la…_"

I wanted to laugh. Robert Plant's subtle _la la la_ had become an emo scream in Gerard's hands. We were getting loud again on the tides of emotion.

_Ride a white mare in the footsteps of dawn._

_Try to find a lover who's never, ever, ever been born._

_Standing on a hill in my mountain of dreams,_

_Telling myself it's not as hard, hard, hard, hard hard hard…_"

He drew it out longer than Robert Plant, bringing his voice up high and screaming through the last lyrics. He was so powerful, I wanted to sing with him. I raised my voice backing his, trying to hit a note lower than what he was singing. He calmed, until he was almost crying. "_…as hard as it seems,_" he finished quietly. I could feel my heart tearing in two just to hear him sing those words. What is wrong with me? And who is this guy that can break me like that with only his voice?

I carefully built up the music from the quiet I had fallen into as Mikey and I followed the lead of Gerard's voice. I brought it up loud, and then clicked suddenly back to the clean channel, growing very quiet very fast. I brought it slowly up louder from there and ended the song gently. It was probably the most gentle song I've ever played in my life. But I liked it. Or what we had done…I liked that.

I looked slowly up at Gerard. He was breathing heavily, catching his breath. He brushed his hair back from his face.

"Gerard," I said, my voice almost weak from shock. I smacked myself mentally. Get a grip, so he happens to have a pretty good voice, so freaking what? Get over it. "Dude, you're amazing. That was awesome."

"Thank you," he said.

"See, Gee's far from useless," said Mikey, smiling at me. "I tell him that all the time, but he never believes me."

"Whatever, Mikes," said Gerard, collapsing on the sofa.

We played for several hours, I think. I kind of lost track of time in general. After Mikey had convinced Gerard to sing one song, he was a little more open to joining in with us. He sang a couple of songs for us, some less-engaging punk songs and stuff. And he knew Seven Nation Army.

Then we hung out for at least an hour after that, maybe longer. Gerard made coffee - which was apparently his and Mikey's hopeless addiction - and we crowded on the sofa drinking it, too busy talking and laughing to watch the trash TV the Way brothers had put on.

It was starting to get dark outside. I didn't want to leave, so I waited until the sun was completely down and the suburbs of Belleville were enveloped in Twilight before I suggested that I had to leave. The Ways were as disappointed as I was.

"Aw, come back soon!" said Mikey. "This was cool…I'll help you carry your stuff out."

He took my amp, which was nice, so I wouldn't have to try to look casual carrying the massive thing. Gerard went out before us, wearing his leather jacket and carrying his keys, looking contemplative.

I climbed into his car a few minutes later, after a final conversation with Mikey. He probably would have come had there been room in the car, or had their parents not been due home at any minute. I turned to Gerard, who was smoking another cigarette. He still looked lost in thought, and I was actually feeling exhausted - again - from the day I had spent with him. The second day in a row I had inadvertently spent with him and drank his coffee. He was going to make an addict of me.

We drove back to my house in relative silence, the faint music from the stereo and the sound of Gerard's slightly squeaky brakes at the stop signs the only sounds around us. He pulled up smoothly in front of my house. Once again, just like yesterday, I didn't want to leave his smoky, music-filled car. I wanted to sit here beside him, listening to rock music, surrounded by his smoke, forever.

"Thanks for coming over," he said quietly. "That was nice."

"Yeah, thanks for having me, man," I said, glancing his way. "That was awesome. And dude, seriously, your voice is awesome. You should sing more."

He smiled that faint, bemused smile that I was coming to appreciate. "Thanks."

I looked down at my hands, examining my chipped nails. "Well, I guess I should go," I said.

"Yeah," he answered, taking the last of the cigarette from his mouth and tossing it in the ash tray.

I was thinking about the night before when he had dropped me off at my house, and I thought of something. "Hey," I said, reaching between the seats and grabbing a random receipt. I was about to give it back, so I didn't think he would care. I snatched the pen he had used yesterday and hastily scribbled my number. "Here," I said, handing it to him with a cheeky smile. "Since I have your number, it's only fair that you have mine."

"Thanks," he said, smiling as he took it. This was a real smile this time, bright and lacking the pain I had come to expect from all of his smiles this evening.

I gave him a faint smile in return, and stepped out of the car.

**Hey, guys :) I hope you like Going to California, by Led Zeppelin. It's a really awesome song, but I hope it wasn't too boring reading the lyrics and stuff if you haven't heard it. Btw, I had to research the Misfits for this chapter. They really do have a song called Helena, I thought that was awesome! And I didn't realize that MCR's Astro Zombies was originally done by the Misfits. Both great songs...no matter which band wrote them/is playing them. :)**

**Xoxo,**

**Rebel Rose**


	3. My Angel Is a Vampire

_My Angel Is a Vampire_

It was Saturday and nothing was happening. My mom worked Saturday evenings; she wouldn't be home till around ten. I was watching trash on TV. My guitar was leaning against the couch; I had sort of been playing earlier, without the amp. I was tired and not really interested now. I brushed my hair out of my eyes, and then my phone rang. Gerard's name was on the screen.

I snatched the phone off the couch. I couldn't answer it fast enough. "Hello?"

"Hey, Frank, it's Gerard."

"Hey, Gerard!" Oh em gee, I was so happy. I had no reason to be so happy from just one phone call. Yeah, I had just spent my entire Saturday alone and it was now dark and slightly rainy and cold and very dreary in my house, but it doesn't matter. I had no reason to be so happy from just one phone call.

"Are you doing anything tonight?"

"No, I'm kind of sitting at home alone," I said, smiling a little, my heartbeat quickening. What was he thinking?

"Well…do you want Chinese food? Because…I know this sounds really weird, but, um, Mikey and I were talking about Chinese food earlier before I had to leave…and he's out with friends right now and my parents are gone, and I haven't had dinner, but I'd hate to eat Chinese food alone, so…"

"Um…yeah, I'd love some Chinese. I haven't had dinner either."

"Oh, good. Um…what do you want, I'll buy you dinner and just, come over, if that's okay?"

"Yeah, that's fine. I really am completely alone right now, my mom won't be back till after ten."

"Okay, cool. So what do you want?"

"Um, just, something without meat."

"What?" he asked, sounding amused.

"Don't buy me anything with meat. I'm a vegetarian."

"Really?" he asked; I could hear the smile in his voice.

"Yeah. Deal with it."

"No, that's cool," he said. I heard a sudden screeching-tires sound and my heart jumped into my throat. "Gerard, are you all right? Gee!" I shouted before I could stop myself or re-evaluate. I heard him muttering something that made it very clear to me that he wasn't involved in whatever had just happened.

"You okay, man?" I asked again, my heartbeat starting to slow.

"Yeah, someone just cut me off," he said, sounding irritated. "Idiots. And um…whatever. Anyway. Um…I'll see you in like, fifteen minutes, okay? And I'll be bringing you dinner."

"Sweet. Okay, I'll see you then. And I'm glad you didn't die."

"Thanks, me too."

I laughed a little and the line went dead.

When you haven't had dinner, and it's eight o'clock, and your mom's out and you're the only one at home and you haven't heard from anyone all day, and there's trash on TV and rain outside, a vampiric guy carrying the brown paper bags reminiscent of Chinese food is completely like an angel. Yes, Gerard Way looked like an angel when I opened the door to let him into my house. He was even standing in this personal halo caused by the rainbow lights reflected off the misty rain by my porch light.

"Hey, you brought _food!_" I said excitedly…I think more of that excitement was from seeing him than I'm willing to admit. Less than a week, Frank. You probably shouldn't even let him in your house.

But he had Chinese food. I would probably have let him in if he was a masked murderer.

"Warmth! Light!" he responded, stepping into the house. His hair was damp from the misty rain. "It is _horrible_ out there."

"I can tell," I said, gazing at his damp hair, hanging in slightly curled tangles around his face. "What were you doing today?"

"Looking at job opportunities," he answered, coming into the house, leaving wet Converse tracks across the hardwood floor. "I didn't actually GET a new job. That's why they call them _opportunities_. I'm good at missing those," he muttered, musing. "But whatever. Point is, I've got Chinese food. And now I've got you. Mikey's gonna be jealous." He smiled as he set the paper sacks on my table. I came to join him, the words he had just said reverberating inside my head. _And now I've got you_. Something about that was just… _And now I've got you, I've got you, got you, got you. I've got you._

"Frank?"

Mental slap. I'm doing that a lot lately. "Yeah? Sorry…I'm mentally unstable tonight."

"I got you this. It has no meat whatsoever. It's like, vegetables and tofu."

My mouth watered at the thought, my personal choir singing Gerard's _I've got you _song fading to the back of my mind. "That sounds awesome. Oh, man, I'm so hungry!"

"Yeah, I skipped lunch today, so… That was about when Mikey and I were fantasizing about Chinese food, actually…"

I stepped into the kitchen to find plates. "Here. And…yeah, we can sit on the couch. The table's too uninteresting."

He laughed a little and followed me into the living room.

Trash TV is so much better when you've got someone to watch it with. Watching guys randomly beat up themselves and their friends on MTV was so much more fun with Gerard. We criticized them and debated the aspects of the abuse they were giving themselves, suggested other bad things they could do to each other, and asked each other if we would do the things they were doing. I agreed to most of them. I was pretty daring. Gerard agreed to most of them, too, although he seemed more like he was agreeing out of a numb how-bad-could-that-actually-be? sort of feeling. He agreed to do some things that I cringed from, I think only because of that random numbness. He stared at the current catastrophe on screen with a placid expression on his face. I glanced at the craziness he had just agreed to do and cringed away. "You would honestly do that?" I said, staring at him. Although I honestly wanted to stare at him anyway. This was just a good excuse.

"Yeah," he said, watching the guy begin the first part of his self-inflicted pain, which involved jumping out of a second-story window.

"Dude, you're crazy," I decided, leaning back into the couch.

"I have a friend that did that once," he said serenely, watching the guy screaming in pain and his friends laughing at him. "He broke his foot, but other than that, it wasn't really that bad. Or he may have just thought that 'cause he was so high at the time…"

"You have drug addict friends, too?" I said, analyzing him.

"Yeah," he said, laughing a little. "Not many. Really just that one guy, and his friends. His name is Bert. He's in a band actually, you might like him."

"Really? What's the band called?""The Used. Kind of alternative rock, screamo. They're pretty good."

Gerard hung out until my mom got home. He was going to leave before…it's kind of awkward to introduce a new friend to your mom at ten-thirty at night…but I didn't want to explain the Chinese.

"Hey, Mom," I said as she walked through the door. "Um, this is my friend, Gerard," I said, gesturing to him from where we still sat on the couch.

She came into the living room. Once she saw Gerard she seemed to calm a little. He stood up to shake her hand. "It's nice to meet you, Gerard," she said, smiling.

"Likewise, Ms. Iero," he responded.

"I wondered whose car that was," she added, walking towards the kitchen. "Did you guys eat dinner?"

"Gerard brought Chinese," I said, grinning at him.

"Oh, good, I'm glad you did, Gerard. Sometimes when Frankie's on his own he ignores the fact that he needs to eat…" Her chatter continued even as she stepped out of hearing range somewhere deeper in the kitchen, probably digging in the pantry or something.

"No wonder he's so small," Gerard said, but only to me, giving me a playful push.

"Hey, no mocking about the height," I warned, pushing him back.

Gerard laughed, and started to get up. "Well, I should probably be leaving," he said. "My parents are going to worry," he added, smiling at my mom as he crossed to the door.

"Yeah, they might think you were involved in a collision or something," I said with a wink, remembering that he had nearly crashed earlier.

"Yeah," he said, laughing. "Good night, Ms. Iero."

"Good night, Gerard, it was nice to meet you."

"Good night, Frankie," he said.

And then he was gone.

I felt a faint chill lingering in my veins after his words. I needed to go to bed. "I'm gonna leave to, Mom. Good night," I said.

"Good night, Frankie," she said, echoing his words. I kissed her cheek on my way by, and hurried up the stairs to my room.

I fell onto my bed as soon as I was inside, the peace and familiarity of my own room helping to clear my head, letting me focus on my thoughts.

And my thoughts were of Gerard. All of them. My veins were on fire, my heartbeat a fast staccato. Gerard, Gerard…and what he had just said to me. Frankie.

I'm not…you know…I'm not gay or anything. Not that I think that's wrong, but, you know, I'm not, so deal with it. But…I've kind of desired guys before, like, I mean, I've never had a boyfriend or anything, but I'm kind of used to seeing guys as attractive in more than just a oh-yeah,-I'm-sure-girls-are-into-him sort of way. I mean…Gerard was beautiful. And I thought he was, and I couldn't stop thinking about the fact that he was. And it wasn't just that he was physically attractive…which he was. I think I've explained that before. But he's also just…awesome, like, who he is, his personality, the way he smiles, his obsession over mass murderers, his self-deprecation. They were all endearing features.

I can't believe this. I don't even know if I want to believe it.

But I think I'm falling for Gerard Way.

**I relate to Frank soooo much in this story. I play guitar, music is my favorite thing ever, I'm his age, I'm finishing school and I have NO idea what I'm going to do now, although I'm not going to college. We dress the same...skinny jeans, band t-shirts, Converse, eye make-up... And we're both completely obsessed with Gerard Way. :P**

**Hope you like this craziness, since it's distracting me from my real work XD**

**Xoxo,**

**Rebel Rose**


	4. Taskmasters

_Taskmasters_

I dreamed about him that night.

We were together, just doing random stuff like that first day, when I met him. But it was different; the way it felt was different. Gerard smiled a lot, warm, happy smiles without an ounce of pain. And sometimes he held my hand.

I was afraid to call him when I woke up.

I wanted to talk to him, to see what he was doing today. I desperately, desperately wanted to be with him. To do anything with him. I didn't even care if we sat together on the couch and did nothing. To be where he was would be enough.

But I was nervous; I kept second-guessing myself. What if he thought I was being too needy or something? And what if he guessed about how I feel about him? I shuddered a little at the thought. This attraction was unhealthy, I was going to have to give it up.

Yes. Yes, I was going to do that. I was determined to give him up.

Fortunately I didn't have to decide whether or not I was allowed to call him today. My phone rang as I was getting dressed, and I sprinted across the room to answer it, pulling the belt through my jeans as I did.

Of course it was Gerard. I knew it was before I checked the caller ID.

"Hey, Gee." Gee? Did I just call him _Gee?_ Well, he started it by calling me Frankie. He was just going to have to deal.

"Hey, Frank," he said.

I saw his smile in my mind and it was gorgeous. Wait, no! No, it was just a normal smile. And I feel normally about it. Normal.

"Hey, remember the friend I was telling you about last night? Bert?"

"Yeah, the drug addict?"

"Yeah," he said, laughing a little. "Um, he's coming over in a little with his friend Quinn. Quinn plays guitar. He and Mikey were gonna jam, Bert said he would sing and stuff. So, I was wondering, well…Mikey and I were wondering if you wanted to come jam out with us?"

I was quiet for a moment. He already knew me so well. Yes of course I wanted to come. "Yeah, definitely! When?"

"Oh, like, right now," he said. "Quinn's on his way, they'll be here in like five minutes or something. I'll come get you if you want?"

"Yeah, that'd be great."

"Okay. See ya."

"See you."

I was hyperventilating. And as soon as I realized I was hyperventilating I forced myself to just _breathe_. Deep breaths, Frank. There is no reason whatsoever to hyperventilate.

My lungs were disagreeing.

Music, I decided. Of course I'm hyperventilating. I'm hyperventilating over the music. I'm allowed to do that.

I ran down the hall to the bathroom, applying some new eyeliner. Black this time. I studied the results in the mirror and decided I looked awesome. Smiling, I went back to my room, grabbing my red hoodie and my Converse in one hand and my guitar case in the other, and descended the stairs.

Mom was sitting on the couch, watching some feminine reality show. "'Morning, honey," she called to me. "Sleep well?"

"Yeah. Hey, Mom, Gerard from last night is coming over in like two minutes, I'm going to play guitars with his brother." I didn't mention Bert. I didn't want my mom to know I was about to share music with a drug addict.

"Is this the same boy you were playing with the other day?" she asked as I searched the kitchen for something I could quickly eat for breakfast. The only thing I found interesting was ice cream.

"Yeah," I said, giving up breakfast as a bad job. I saw coffee in the brewer, and fixated on that. I needed some. I had never drank coffee much before I met Gerard. I was strongly aware of that fact as I poured all the coffee that remained into a travel mug. "He plays bass, he's really good."

"Does Gerard play anything?"

"No, but his voice is _amazing_." Well it is, I argued with myself, as I took a sip of the coffee. It wasn't as good as Gerard's. Mental slap.

"That's nice," she said.

Someone knocked on the door.

"That must be him," I heard my mom say as I ran into the foyer. I ran. Another mental slap.

I slowed to an acceptable speed as I opened the door.

"Hey," I said breathlessly.

I earned an extremely hard mental slap for that one.

"Hey," said Gerard, sounding amused. He looked happy, actually. Everything about him looked happy.

Happiness fit him well, he looked so good. He had never looked so good. His eyes…

MENTAL SLAP.

"So, you want me to get anything?"

"Um, you could get my amp," I suggested. "It's…in my bedroom," I added, not certain I wanted him to just walk into my room. He was already on his way upstairs. I was mentally racing through all the items in my room (most of which was on the floor), trying to decide if there was anything I didn't want him to see.

Then he disappeared through my bedroom door and I had no option but to shut up and deal with it.

"When will you guys come home?" my mom was asking.

"I don't know. Probably afternoon sometime. Playing music is important business."

"Okay," she said, turning back to her reality show. I was glad she seemed calm and accepting today.

Gerard was coming down the stairs, struggling with my heavy amplifier. It brought me some grim satisfaction to see it wasn't much easier for him than it was for me.

I was sitting on the floor tying my shoes when he caught up to me.

"I'll go put this in the car," he said, giving my foot a playful kick.

I tried to kick him back, but he had already skipped out of my way. He grinned at me as he closed the door.

Getting kicked in the foot had made me unreasonably cheerful. I decided that was an unacceptable response and pasted a frown onto my face as I went to grab my coffee.

"Bye, Mom!" I called to her as I passed by the living room.

"Bye, Frankie…hey, is that coffee? When did you start drinking coffee?" she asked, with one of those unnerving lights in her eyes that mothers possess when they know something about you, and you can't even begin to guess what it is.

"Since…now," I said, trying not to think about why. "I'll see you later." "Mm-kay," she said. Her mind was already back on the reality show.

Gerard was waiting in the driver's seat as I descended the walkway. I took my seat beside him - giving myself a small mental slap for considering it mine - and pulled the door closed.

There was loud music blaring from his house when we pulled up outside. Some of the windows were open, a celebration of the slightly better weather we were experiencing today. I heard the music fumble a little and the bass drop out. Someone shouted and there was mass laughter. I heard what I thought was Mikey's voice, and then Mikey appeared at the door. "Hey!" he was shouting even before I got out of the car. I glanced at Gerard and stepped out onto the driveway.

"Dude, I'm glad you came," Mikey was saying.

"Did you just leave Bert in my living room?" Gerard asked, coming around the side of the car.

"Maybe," said Mikey.

Gerard sprinted up the steps and into the house.

When Mikey and I came in, carrying my equipment, I saw Gerard sitting on the couch next to a man in baggy shorts with scraggly shoulder-length blond hair. He was giggling about something Gerard had just said, turning to another man with silky blond hair in a chunky emo cut, who was standing in the living room, a guitar slung over his shoulders. He was playing and listening to the conversation simultaneously, which I admired.

Gerard looked around as we came in. His smile made my heart flutter.

I mental-slapped myself, but it was pretty weak. I think my muscles were physically too weak in response to my rapidly beating heart for me to even imagine a hard slap.

"Hey, Frank," he said. The man beside him looked around curiously. "Bert, this is Frank, Frank, Bert," Gerard introduced. "And this is Quinn. Quinn, Frank…"

"Hey," said Quinn, giving me a small wave with his picking hand. "Gee says you play guitar?"

"Yeah," I said, lifting my guitar case a little. "Dude, awesome guitar, by the way," I added, pausing to admire his as Mikey went to set up my amp. Quinn had a Gibson SG Special. Gibson is the mother company of Epiphone, which made my guitar. So yeah, I was a little jealous.

"Thanks," he said, glancing down over the strings as I opened my case. His eyes appraised my guitar. "Epiphone Les Paul, that's not bad."

"Yeah," I agreed. I jacked my cable into my amplifier and played with the strings a little, checking to see if I was in tune.

We played and joked around for an hour, maybe longer. Quinn was pretty good. He liked to play in dropped D, which I had never been impressed with, but came to appreciate after he taught me a couple songs. He and Bert had written several songs - Quinn and the other guys from the Used writing music and Bert writing these clever, poetic, and painful lyrics. We played a few of them. Bert had a good voice; he was more ironic and sarcastic than Gerard with his lyrics and inflections. And the man could _scream_. Gerard's screaming was full of emotional pain, like he was on the verge of tears and mental breakdown. Bert's scream was full of physical pain and well passed the state of mental breakdown. Gerard -

Mental slap. No more comparisons.

I caught myself staring at Gerard while I played. I didn't know it was possible to hide from yourself, but I hid my staring from the part of my mind that kept slapping me. He was so beautiful today, so gorgeous…I felt like I could survive on his imagine alone.

We randomly played and traded positions for a while. It was a lazy sort of Sunday where no one wanted to do any one thing more than another. I dropped my guitar for a while and sat next to Bert and Gerard on the couch, watching Quinn and Mikey joust for whose head-banging and random on-stage dancing was better than the other's. I kept stealing long glances at Gerard. He was so happy today; nothing about him seemed depressed or beaten, the emotional state I have found him in on every other day.

Gerard said something I didn't quite catch, and Bert laughed and leaned his head against Gerard's shoulder, grasping his arm in both hands. I stared at him, I couldn't stop staring. I should never have felt this…but red jealousy was rushing through my veins. Bert laughed again and released Gerard, saying something back. _Stay away from him_, I thought.

And then I slapped myself, although it was very weak and uncommitted.

But something about what had just happened intrigued me. Because Gerard didn't seem to mind being lovingly…I don't know, leaned on? It wasn't really a hug, or a caress…like that. That was…interesting.

Although it may just be Bert. He's a complete extrovert, he's very loud and outgoing and fearless. Okay, maybe not fearless. But unabashed. He's a stark contrast to Gerard, who was quiet and withdrawn, not wanting to attract unnecessary attention. It was sweet…

Mental slap. I think my brain is going numb…

The late summer breeze blowing through the open windows was too much to resist, and we abandoned music for what we could find outside.

We could have gone out the back door, but Gerard and Mikey didn't find that quite as interesting as leaving through the front door and then climbing over the fence into the backyard. Bert, Mikey, and Quinn started some kind of random game of tag or a race or something - I'm not exactly sure how it started, but I'm going to blame Bert, because the first notice we had of the spontaneous game was Bert running with Mikey chasing him. Bert was slow…probably because of his drug addiction…so he lost the game. Mikey ran far away from him and watched him from the other side of the yard. He was like a hunting cat, I thought, not taunting his prey, just waiting for it to move. Bert sauntered slowly towards Gerard, done being chased. "Hey," he said casually, and punched Gerard on the arm and raced in the opposite direction.

Gerard shouted in surprise; I was too slow to realize what was happening, and too interested in staying by his side, to realize I should run. He punched my arm, and I turned automatically to Quinn.

Quinn was either quicker than me, or he simply wasn't infatuated with the person standing next to him, because he started running the second I started to turn his way. I chased him, shouting after him; Bert and Mikey dodged around us, trying to avoid becoming a target.

The backyard was small, so the chaser changed with alarming rapidity. I noticed Gerard didn't run very much - he seemed like he hated running - but unobtrusively watched the others and tried to remain unnoticed. Bert and Quinn scuffled back and forth for at least a minute without noticing he was standing nearby. Then Bert tagged Mikey, who had thought himself safe hiding behind Bert's back. Mikey turned immediately to Gerard - brothers can sense each other - and dove for him. Gerard was too slow. I don't think he was expecting Mikey to get tagged. He shouted in annoyance while Mikey and Bert sprinted in a new direction, laughing.

Gerard's eyes fell on me.

I had to run, I kept telling myself I should run, but it was really hard to run away from him. He was staring at me, his eyes piercing and hungry.

And then he came towards me, fast, almost too fast for me to react.

"Oh crap," I said, and sprinted away from him.

I blame smallness in general for being caught. I was small, the backyard was small. He was nearly on me almost immediately. I slowed for the tiniest moment, dodging to the right to avoid slamming the Ways' wooden fence, and he caught me.

He literally caught me. He threw himself at me and we went down together. I tumbled over him once and landed on my back. Gerard fell beside me and lay still, gasping for breath. I was dizzy and disoriented. Oh the grass smelled so good…and Gerard smelled so good…and he was so close…

And then he was up. He was grinning at me. "You're it," he stated, and sprinted away from me.

I had the plague.

We all came inside, exhausted, still gasping, parched, bedraggled, and slightly sweaty. We were all sporting grass stains, although Gerard and I looked relatively clean in our black skinnies. Bert had grass clippings in his hair. We crowded around the sink, grabbing glasses and hoarding water. Bert lit a cigarette and coughed over the smoke.

"Dude…" said Mikey, still gasping and drinking massive amounts of water. "It's time…for a horror movie."

Everyone chorused their agreement. "I'm sitting by Gerard!" Bert declared.

"You're sitting by me!" Quinn protested.

"_I'm_ sitting by Gerard," I stated. Whoa, Frank. What are you doing?

But no one really heard me or took me seriously, so it didn't matter. No one took Bert seriously either, which somehow resulted in Gerard sprinting from the room with Bert chasing him. "Mine!" we heard Bert shouting as we followed them at a more leisurely pace. Gerard was lying on the couch, trapped beneath Bert, who was sitting on his hips. Actually, he was straddling his hips. It was playful…Bert was shouting something along the lines of Gerard being his prisoner and having to do whatever he wanted and that meant sitting beside him and sharing his popcorn, and Gerard was shouting something about Bert being a cruel evil taskmaster and please-don't-steal-my-popcorn-Mikey-help!…but it struck me as really beautiful and sexy. I wanted to do that to Gerard.

I was beyond mental slaps now. I had become more powerful than my communist taskmaster, and I had escaped.

Quinn and Mikey went up to the couch - I lingered back, thoughts of Gerard rushing unhindered through my mind - and stopped. They looked very sure of themselves and what they were about to do. "Guys, make some room," Mikey asked nicely, but neither Bert or Gerard seemed to notice him. Especially not Bert. Bert actively ignored him.

Mikey and Quinn exchanged an impish look, then turned as one back to Bert and grabbed him by the arms. "Hey, let me go! Let me go! Geraaaaard, I need you!" Bert protested, screaming loudly as they manhandled him off of the sofa and dropped him - yeah, they actually dropped him - on the floor. "Ow," he said, shocked out of protesting. Quinn and Mikey immediately sat down on the couch, blocking him from any potential seat. They had to sit on Gerard's legs to do it.

"Stop pretending I don't exist!" Gerard shouted, trying to kick Mikey and failing, since Quinn was sitting on his ankles.

I slipped around Bert, who was still too shell-shocked to get off the floor, coming to Gerard's side of the couch. Or at least the Mikey-and-Quinn-free side.

"Hey, Gee," I said casually.

"Hey, Frank. Save me?"

I considered it. "I don't think so," I decided, and sat comfortably on his hips. This was nice.

"Bert!" he shouted in protest. "Save me! Please, I beg you!"

"Say I'm better than them," Bert commanded, grinning.

"Bert, you're a horrid taskmaster," Quinn responded.

"You rule with an iron fist," Mikey agreed.

Bert looked to Gerard for his response.

"…You're a really horrid taskmaster, you majorly suck."

"Hey!" Bert exclaimed as Mikey and Quinn laughed at him. We were making no progress whatsoever towards watching a horror movie, but I didn't really mind. I was only half-aware of the chaos ensuing around me. I was mostly aware of Gerard, his hip bones sharp and almost painful beneath me, the faint shift under his skin as he breathed, the muscle in his leg that kept twitching under Mikey's weight.

There was a faint crashing sort of sound and the shriek of the door opening. Mikey and I looked around to see his and Gerard's parents coming in the door.

"Awww," said Mikey, smacking the closest thing to him, which was Gerard. "No horror movie."

"Hey, boys," called Mrs. Way as she came in. "Oh, I see you have friends over."

"Hey, Donna," said Bert, waving from the floor.

"Hi, Bert," she said, pausing on the way to her room. She leaned her head to the side. "Boys, where's Gerard?"

"Um, we're sitting on him?" said Mikey. Quinn and I laughed a little.

"Oh, that's nice, dear. Be sure he can still breathe."

I liked the Way parents immediately. So accepting of our randomness.

"Boys, you weren't planning on watching anything, were you?" Mr. Way called from the kitchen.

"Kind of, why?" responded Mikey, although he sounded like he already knew.

"Gotta watch the supercross," he said.

Mikey groaned. "Yeah, okay."

"The what?" I asked as he finally got up off Gerard's legs.

"Motorcycle race. My dad loves it," he said, smiling a little. "It's cool, but, you know…horror movies…"

"I guess we better leave," said Quinn. "I've gotta be home by five…"

"Why…?" Mikey asked.

"His girlfriend's coming over," Bert responded, grinning teasingly at Quinn.

"Be jealous, Bert, be jealous," Quinn responded, also getting off of Gerard. He dropped a hand to help Bert up off the floor.

"Hey, Frank."

I was suddenly reminded that Gerard was a physical person, not a figment of my imagination, and that I was actively sitting on him right now.

I looked down at his face, calm, painless.

"I'd like to get up now…and you're kind of crushing me…"

"Oh, sorry," I said, jumping up quickly. He sat up slowly, massaging his leg muscles.

"We could almost walk home," Bert mused. "Better than riding in your crappy car," he said to Quinn.

"At least I, have a car," Quinn responded, splitting the sentence to emphasize his statement of ownership.

This seemed to be a sore subject with Bert, and he chased Quinn out of the house.

We hauled equipment outside to the vehicles. I hadn't noticed Quinn's car before, since he had parked a little ways past Gerard's house, but it was, indeed, a crappy car.

"So we'll see you guys some time," Quinn said when the work was done and we had gathered between his car and Gerard's. "It was cool to meet you, Frank. Keep playing, man."

"Yeah, same here," I said.

Then they left, debating the pros and cons of buying ice cream on their way back home. The cons being that they had no cash to buy it with.

I returned inside with the Way brothers, not wanting to leave but feeling like I should. "I should probably go," I said half-heartedly.

"Yeah, okay."

Gerard leaned in the door. "Hey, Mom, Mikey and I are gonna drive Frank home. He lives just around the corner."

"Okay," Gerard's mother called back faintly.

"Mikey, you'll have to climb in on top of everything," Gerard said, smiling.

I quickly claimed the passenger seat in case Mikey decided to fight. He didn't, crawling in on top of my guitar case. I was glad I had invested in a hard shell.

Mom was still on the couch when I got home, watching her favorite reality show. "Hi, Frankie," she said, glancing at me as I came in the door with my guitar.

"Hi, Mom."

Gerard and Mikey came in behind me, Gerard carrying my amp.

"Oh, hello, Gerard," she said. She seemed glad to see him. That was good, since as long as I had it my way, she would be seeing a _lot_ of him in the near future.

"Mom, this is Gerard's brother, Mikey."

"Hey, Mikey," she said, smiling. "You play bass guitar?"

Mikey was caught in a conversation with my mom, and knowing she would be busy with him for a while, Gerard and I slipped upstairs, carrying my gear.

"Have a nice day?" Gerard asked, setting the amp near the wall of my room.

"Mm-hm," I answered. I felt a schizophrenic combination of exhaustion and sudden excitement at having him in my room. Did I dare tell him I thought he looked beautiful today…and that the more I looked at him, the more I wanted to press him against the wall and kiss him?

"Ow," he winced, taking a limping step back from my amplifier.

"Somebody hurt you from sitting on you too long?" I asked with a cheeky grin.

"Yes. I blame you," he responded.

"My fault? How could it be my fault? You could have pushed me off if you wanted to."

"Could I?" he asked, looking at me from under his lashes. Heartbeat. Hummingbird wings.

"Yes…" I answered, eyes not leaving him as he came steadily closer to me.

He was inches from my face. I was trapped against the bed. He smiled ironically. "I had a nice day too."

A rush of disappointment washed over me as he stepped away, not looking back as he stepped out my door. I followed him like a hurt puppy, beaten but still irrationally loving.

Mikey was still talking with my mom. She let him go, remembering his parents (although probably just remembering that her reality show was back from commercial). I followed him and Gerard to the door.

"See you later, Frank," said Mikey, stepping down off the porch.

"Yeah, bye Frankie," said Gerard, looking back to give me a casual wave.

"Bye," I said numbly, watching them go. They were talking and pushing each other, laughing as they walked down my street. I wished I was leaving with them.

Or that Gerard had stayed with me.

Oh if Gerard had stayed with me…

**So, I doubt Donald Way is actually into motocross. But my dad loves it, and I personally don't like sports, at all, so that would be why Mr. Way was anticipating a supercross race instead of some football game or something. **

**And I researched Quinn Allman for this. I love that he has a Gibson SG, that's what I have! I love it, I would definitely recommend it to anyone who wants a killer guitar. :)**

**Xoxo,**

**Rebel Rose**


	5. FedEx Guys Don't Wear Eyeliner

**Ta-da! Behold, I have updated! I am so sorry I've been so lame with this fifth chapter...I am so freaking confused. And I burnt myself out writing all of this story so far plus _Buried Myself Alive_ in four or five days. So yeah. I was exhausted. I still am. But I have this. **

_Fed-Ex Guys Don't Wear Eyeliner_

I don't know what I dreamed. I only know that my last thought before falling asleep was of him, and my first thought when I awoke was also him. This was bad. It was getting worse, steadily worse, like a growing infection, like a disease. I should not care about this guy…I shouldn't care about him at all.

I pulled the blankets over my head. I didn't want to think about it. This was so wrong, so, so wrong. And how could anything ever come of this? He couldn't like me…I mean, who would? And why him especially? It just wasn't possible.

But then my mind wandered. I was thinking about yesterday. The way he had said, in his phone call that _he_ had wanted me to come over, before revising his statement to say 'he and Mikey'. I remembered him kicking my foot in the hallway…my entire being got tingly remembering that. And he fucking kicked my foot! That is NOT romantic, or loving, or something you do to a guy you like.

And when he tagged me… I spent several long minutes thinking of the way he had grabbed me and we had both tumbled onto the grass. We had been so close, just for an instant.

I groaned and glanced at the clock on my bedside table. My mom would be leaving for work in a few minutes, and then I would be alone in the house for the rest of the day.

It was anticipation of that loneliness that made me drag every single thing I did out as long as possible. I laid in bed until I was no longer even the slightest bit tired, until I was growing bored and hungry, and eager to get up and DO something. Then I turned on my radio, waiting for a good song to play before I actually got out of bed.

I sorted through all of my clothes, choosing clean blue skinny jeans and a black Misfits t-shirt from my floor. I kicked some clothes aside and moved to my mirror. I looked…okay. My hair was extremely tousled. I decided to fix it.

Done. Hair straightened.

My eyeliner was smudged. Not that I really cared.

I fixed that too.

And then I had nothing to keep me upstairs.

I descended slowly, and found breakfast slowly, even though I was absolutely starving. I was trying so hard not to run out of things to do, or to think about. Because I feared for my sanity if I ran out of things to occupy my mind. I knew it would revert automatically to Gerard. I was trying so hard not to let it go there now. I couldn't think about him any more, I had to stop. I had to.

I tried to watch random crap on TV while I ate breakfast, but nothing would hold my interest. I left my empty bowl on the coffee table, pulled on my Converse, and went out.

It was beautiful today. Better than yesterday. I wondered if Gerard looked the same…

I shook my head slightly. Sanity, I thought. And I walked, my hands stuffed deep into my pockets.

There wasn't anywhere to walk to. Our neighborhood is kind of isolated. I wandered down the streets, purposely turning right instead of left on Gerard's street; I could not visit him today, I could not allow myself. Even though I wanted to with a desperate aching that I felt in all of my being, try as I might to suppress it, and then to ignore it. I walked away from his house, each step causing me a quick stab of heartbreak, but I grimly walked on. I deserved this. I needed to feel this pain.

But I said it before: there was nothing. No place you could walk to, nothing interesting to do. I ended up back at my house, tired, my feet sore, craving music.

I went upstairs and put in Green Day's Dookie. The music was loud and engaging, and sent my mind in new, safe, directions. But then it ended with the hidden track. Billie Joe Armstrong said something indiscernible and Tre Cool burst into laughter in the background. And you could hear Mike Dirnt saying, "Oh, oh well. That wasn't supposed to be recorded, shut up!"

Billie Joe panted dorkily.

And then the guitar started. I should have turned it off, but I didn't.

_I was alone._

_I was all by myself._

_No one was looking…_

_I was thinking of you._

_And yeah, did I mention…_

_I was all by myself._

_All by myself._

_All by myself._

The track was so dorky, but it had me thinking immediately and irrevocably of Gerard. There was muffled laughter in the background as Billie Joe sang his way through the lyrics with Mike singing an extremely high back up on the chorus. I was laughing with the track, but it was just me trying to distract myself.

Ugh.

And now the music is over and I've got nothing.

I searched around for another album. Iron Maiden. I put it in but I was so uninterested. I turned it off midway through the third song and descended the stairs again. A FedEx guy knocked on the door to my house as I came down the stairs. I wondered what Mom had ordered…

I also wondered if I would scare the guy with my liner. I hoped so.

I opened the door. The liner didn't scare him.

He was wearing liner too.

"Gerard?" I asked, not believing he was actually standing on my doorstep.

"Hey," he said. I took him in, every inch of him, still not believing he was real. He was wearing baggy cargo shorts today, and a black hoodie which he had zipped and pulled the hood over his head. His hands were thrust deep into the pockets. His eyeliner was faded, day old, but his face looked clean and pale and smooth and like something I wanted to touch.

"Hey," I said, finally deciding he was not an apparition.

"Hey."

I had no idea what to say. He was on my porch. Why was he on my porch? "Um…hey."

"Hi."

"Heeey."

"Hey." He said it with a sweet little smile. Oh em gee, just get in here so I can fucking kiss you already. I fucking love you Gerard.

"You wanna come in?"

"Sure." He stepped inside. So casual, so secure.

"So…what are you doing today?"

"Visiting you. What are you doing today?"

"Being visited. Contemplating my book of names, and who to add next." "I notice you haven't added me yet."

"Oh but it's oh-so-tempting," I promised, reaching out my hand like I was going to grasp him and pull him closer and ultimately kill him.

I don't understand this. But like, two minutes after Gerard entered my house, it started raining. Like, really really hard. The weather had been awesome, and now it was pouring with rain.

"Gerard, I blame you," I decided, turning to him as we sat side by side on the couch.

"I love the rain," he responded dreamily.

"Then I definitely blame you."

We hung out watching more trash TV for a while. My mom called me and said she'd be home late, so Gerard and I went into the kitchen and explored my refrigerator for dinner. Gerard teased me about the lack of meat. It was so cute - I acted wimpy for a while just to draw out his teasing. Oh, Gerard, you're so adorable…

We went back to the couch, laying out masses of junk food on the coffee table, and found a nasty-looking R-rated movie. I hacked it with my secret knowledge of my mom's password, and we watched. It was pretty good - basically plotless, but there was lots of gore, fast cars, gunfire, and explosions, so we were happy. I couldn't help but notice, though - it was hard not to - that every woman in the movie was wearing something unrealistically seductive. I glanced at Gerard, unable to stop myself from comparing him to the girls on screen. He was hotter by far.

And then I heard a sound I had not been expecting. A car door slam. My mom was home. "Oh crap," I said, lunging for the remote and hearing myself laughing at the situation we were in.

"Oh, crap," Gerard agreed, jumping up from the couch.

"Come on," I said, giggling uncontrollably, running by him and grabbing his hand, pulling him with me. We sprinted up the stairs and into my room. We closed my door just as I heard Mom come inside.

I turned towards Gerard, and the chaotic mess that was my room. I cringed a little and put it out of my mind, since there was nothing I could do about it. "Okay. I'm gonna go placate Mom for like five minutes, then I'll be back, okay?"

"Okay," he agreed, and I left him in my room. My heart was pounding so hard as I skipped down the stairs. Gerard Way was freaking in my bedroom right now…

"Mom?"

"Hi, Frankie," she said fondly, coming inside with several grocery bags in her arms. "How was your day, did you make it all right on your own?"

"Yeah, it was great," I said, and then thought that no, maybe it wasn't. It was only great now, but she wasn't to know why. "Um, actually it was kinda drab. But it was okay."

"The girls at work were _awful _today."

I cringed through her five minute description of the obstinate girls at her workplace, trying to respond nicely but not to encourage her AT ALL. Either I failed or she ignored me, but I finally got away.

"Good night, Frankie!" she called to my retreating back.

"Good night!" I called back.

I was thinking maybe what happened with Gerard was all just a dream.

I opened my door.

No, he was there. Lying in all his vampiric perfection across my bed, looking peaceful. He looked up at me as I came in.

"Thanks for letting me stay," he whispered.

"No problem," I responded, imagining what would happen if he knew I would have wanted him to stay whether it was raining or not. "Okay," I said, reaching for the light switch, "either get under the blankets, or hit the floor, I'm coming in." I watched him grouse at me and pull the blankets up to his chest. I was unrealistically glad to see he had chosen that option. I clicked off the lights and moved towards the bed, not daring to change into something more comfortable than my skinny jeans.

I climbed slowly into the bed, trying not to accidentally bump him. I leaned slowly back till I was lying beside him in the dark. Oh he was so close, I could feel the warmth from his skin. And I could smell him, and he smelled awesome. I had to restrain myself from taking a deep breath. That might be kind of awkward. Frank, what are you doing? Oh, I'm smelling you. You smell awesome.

And then I thought of something. Why couldn't I do those things? And why couldn't I tell him things like that? I thought of Bert McCracken, hugging/leaning against Gerard yesterday. And how Gerard hadn't cared. How comfortable he'd seemed with it. With that kind of attention.

Cautiously, I rolled over so that I was facing him. Once I had gone that far, I felt extremely reckless, beyond fear, and snuggled myself up against him, ducking my head into his chest. I couldn't stop myself from giggling just a little. He gave a small breathy laugh, and gently put his arm around me. It sent chills up my spine that I wondered if he could feel. And all I could smell now was him. All I could feel was his warmth. I snuggled a little closer, trying to still my quivering heart. "Goodnight, Gerard," I whispered.

"Goodnight, Frankie," he whispered back.

In mere moments, I was asleep.


	6. Aware

**REBEL ROSE: *lies dead on the ground***

**SUMMERTIME ROSE (the BertxGee-loving, author-of-first-7-chapters-of-WotWD {read it and understand}, other half of Rebel Rose's schizophrenic brain): *sneaks into scene and prods REBEL ROSE with her pink Converse shoe***

**REBEL ROSE: *suddenly, with loud dramatic gasps, comes to life***

**SUMMERTIME: Hey. You're not dead!**

**REBEL ROSE: Why aren't you locked away in my head somewhere writing love stories about Gee and Bert?**

**SUMMERTIME: Because you're not DOING anything, that's why! So I decided to come out and poke you until you woke up.**

**REBEL: You're mean.**

**SUMMERTIME: *hands her coffee***

**REBEL: Coffee! *dances gleefully around the beach and finally stops long enough to drink some* You're nice.**

**SUMMERTIME: You're random.**

**REBEL: You're randomer.**

**SUMMERTIME: Don't care. I woke you up and brought you the coffee because your fans miss you, and I'm getting bored without you. Please go write something.**

**REBEL: I can't. I have the worst case of writer's block ever and I can't write.**

**SUMMERTIME: Yes. That's why I also brought you some ideas. *pulls out ray gun, puts it to her temple, cocks it, and fires at REBEL's head***

**REBEL: *mouth hangs slack, suddenly filled with inspiration* Holy shit, Summertime! All my ideas! They weren't bad, they were good, I can use these! I can use all of these! I can do this! Thaaaaank you!**

**SUMMERTIME: *congratulates herself, as REBEL has already left the beaches of her stagnant mind and returned to the world of written words, and the living***

_Aware_

I don't want to tell you what happened that day.

I don't want to tell you because I'd rather just skip ahead. I want you to know how it ends sooo much.

When I woke up that morning with his arms around my waist, I was immediately in a state of cardio hypertension…or something. I tried to be calm, because I didn't want him to wake and realize he was holding me, and let go. But it was so hard when I could feel his entire body pressed up against me, feel his warm breath on the back of my neck. My every sense was completely alert; I could hear every sound in the house, the sounds of my mom making breakfast downstairs, the sound of Gerard's warm, gentle breathing, the sound of my own racing heart.

When he woke up…it was forever before he let go of me. And that made my heart race still faster, and I kept questioning myself; was I certain he was awake, did he realize what he was doing, did he just not care? Did he…. But I didn't dare even think that question. I couldn't think something like that.

"Hey Frank?"

I nearly jumped out of my skin. I had just made up my mind that he was asleep. "What?" I asked, trying to act like that hadn't just happened. Of course he would have _felt_ it, his entire body was against mine.

"We should do something today."

"Like what?" I asked, taking my chances and rolling over carefully in his arms. He let go of me…no. Oh em gee. He almost let go of me, his hands sliding slowly away, but one of them stopped at my waist. I don't think he was aware of what he was doing; he looked lost in thought.

"It's the last day of summer," he said. "So we should just do something. I'll call Mikey."

He propped himself up on one arm and leaned over me to the bedside table, where his phone was resting. I breathed in the sweet scent of him, his stomach inches from my face. I wanted so bad to kiss him…

Then he was lying beside me again, dialing Mikey's number. We slid apart slightly and he set the phone between us, on speaker phone.

"Hullo…?" Mikey sounded so exhausted. I think we woke him up.

"Hey, Mikes, it's Gerard."

"Gerard?" There was a sound of shifting blankets and he responded, "Why don't you go back to kissing Frank in bed and let me sleep."

Oh em gee, I wanted to hide my face, I blushed so hard, trying to laugh away the sound of my racing heart.

"Mikey, you're on speaker phone," Gerard pointed out.

There was an unsteady silence during which he and I exchanged a look of suppressed laughter, waiting for Mikey's brain to reach comprehension.

"Oh. Hey, Frank."

"Hey, Mikey," I said, trying not to let my voice shake.

"So, did you call me for a reason or are you just trying to annoy me?" Mikey asked.

"I have a reason," said Gerard, glancing up at me. "Frank and I think we should do something today, since it's the last day of summer and everything."

"Hey, it was your idea, I'm not in any way responsible for waking Mikey…" I interrupted.

"Oh, my partner in crime is backing out on me!" Gerard exclaimed.

"Hey, I'm a mercenary, I only work for a price. Risk of death by angry, sleep-deprived guy is suddenly outweighing the amount of your deposit."

"I've got…"

"Guys, focus!" shouted Mikey, and we could hear him laughing on the other end of the receiver. "Gee, what is it you wanted to do?"

"I don't know. We should call some friends or something."

I heard the door to our house slam, and I jabbed my thumb in that direction, my eyes on Gerard's. "Mom," I said, and he looked gleeful.

"We'll talk later, ok, Mikey?" he said, grabbing his phone from the bed.

"Wait…you called me to make a decision and then we didn't resolve anything? That means you woke me up for nothing!"

"Sorry, I gotta go now, bye!"

"Ge—"

"He's gonna be so mad when you get home," I laughed.

"So mad," Gerard agreed.

We left my room and sprinted down the stairs. I smacked him a quick high-five for successfully avoiding my mom, and went into the kitchen.

Gerard remembered, as I was pouring the coffee left in the maker into a mug for him, that he had several job interviews scheduled today. I offered him the coffee anyway; a normal person probably would have said goodbye and run, but Gerard took the coffee with a grateful smile, took a quick but large gulp of the hot coffee, handed me the mug, thanked me, and ran to grab his shoes. I followed him into the living room, still holding his coffee, thanking God that we had kicked our shoes under the couch the night before; Mom would have noticed shoes that weren't my own in her living room.

"If you can come over to our house in less than forty-five minutes," he was saying as he did up his laces, "then we'll figure something out with Mikey, okay?"

"Yeah, sounds good," I agreed.

He stood up and took the coffee mug from my hand, draining half the contents before handing it back with a smile. "Thank you," he said, and moved to the door. I followed him into the hallway. He gave me another quick smile before the door closed, leaving me alone in the hall.

I took a sip of the coffee, carefully placing my lips exactly over where his had been.

I was so filthy. I decided if I was going to see him again in a few minutes, I wanted to be clean. I ran upstairs to the bathroom, trying not to spill my mug of coffee, and turned on the shower. Ten minutes later I was stepping out of it, dripping wet, my hair in my eyes. I sprinted back to my room to find clean clothes. I chose black skinny jeans and a black t-shirt with a red design. I abused my eyes with red powder and descended the stairs for my shoes. Running on coffee…and probably a tiny amount of Gerard's spit…I left the house and sprinted down the street toward the crossroads. I fixed my eyes on Gerard's house then, which kept me running until I reached it. I was gasping as I came up the porch steps and knocked three times on the door. I was considering letting myself in when I heard Gerard's voice, and then Mikey saying something back… "Come on, Mikey!" Gerard shouted, and I giggled a little. Then I heard footsteps approaching, and Gerard pulled the door open.

Holy crap. His hair was dripping wet and he was wearing a towel. I nearly died.

"Ge-Gerard…" I stammered, my mind shattered.

Mikey was laughing and shouting something about revenge and Gerard was stepping aside to let me in while shouting back at Mikey. I stepped carefully in and saw Mikey was sitting on the couch playing videogames, laughing at Gerard.

"He did this because you woke him up this morning, didn't he?" I asked.

Gerard just grimaced. "Excuse me while I change out of this towel," he responded, slamming the front door and hurrying back down the hall.

"Hey, Frank," said Mikey cheerfully, waving to me briefly before refocusing on his videogame.

"That was cruel, Mikey," I teased as I sat down next to him.

"Maybe. He deserved it. I don't even know why he's going to these job interviews today, he doesn't want the jobs he's asking for."

Gerard emerged from down the hall, wearing normal jeans for once and a clean black t-shirt. His hair was still dripping and he looked absolutely gorgeous.

"So," he said, sitting down on Mikey's other side. I wished there had been room for him to sit by me. "What should we do today?"

"When will you be done with your interviews?" Mikey asked.

"Um…like three-ish, maybe. One of them's on the other side of town."

"You're filing for a job on the other side of town?"

"I really need a job, Mikey," Gerard answered, and purposely bumped Mikey's elbow at a critical point in his game.

"Hey!" Mikey shouted as he died a virtual death.

"Revenge," Gerard responded, and hid his face as Mikey dove at him.

I tried not to laugh as they wrestled back and forth, until finally they quit, Gerard pushing Mikey back into a sitting position. Mikey straightened his glasses. "So."

"Activities," said Gerard.

"You're going to be home kind of late, it's not like we can do anything in the afternoon…"

"And it's a week day. Mom and Dad won't be up for a party."

"We could go see that one horror movie we kept missing all summer."

Gerard snapped his fingers. "Yes. Brilliant, Mikey."

Mikey smiled, gratified, as Gerard looked over his shoulder at the clock. "Oh, crap, I've got to go. I'll see you guys later, okay?"

"Sure," said Mikey, his controller back in hand.

The door closed behind Gerard - again. I felt like doors were eternally closing to separate him from me.

Mikey reached across to the coffee table and grabbed another controller. "You wanna play?"

"Sure," I said, surprised.

I was expecting to do nothing today. Instead I sat on the couch killing zombies with Mikey Way. And then Gerard came home at three, looking annoyed and wanting more coffee. We called Bert and Quinn and Gee's friend Ray to see if they were interested in horror movies this evening – all of them were. Ray came to our house and we were introduced – he played guitar too, so we got along well. Bert was grounded – to which Mikey looked very unsurprised – but he was sneaking out, to which Mikey looked even more unsurprised. We all smashed ourselves into Gerard's Subaru…Gee and Toro comfortable up front, the rest of us fighting over space in the back…and went out to dinner before the movie. Dinner was fun…we almost got kicked out. I blame Bert…and the movie was brilliant. The Way brothers have good taste in horror films. Then we drove back to their house at like, ten. My mom called and I had to explain to her where I'd gone and promise I was almost home. She wasn't thrilled about my lack of communication today.

We went into the Way's house and made the place chaotic. Bert was high on his stolen freedom and got chased through the living room several times. Ray negotiated a guitar from Gerard, and sat on the end of the couch, playing as he watched the insanity unfolding around him. Then Gerard and Mikey's parents…Donald and Donna…came to remind Gerard and Mikey that it was a week night and they had to work tomorrow and some quiet would be nice. Gradually everyone left…there was lots of lingering on the doorstep and in the driveway… Then finally Gerard looked at me. "Do you wanna just walk home?" he asked me.

"Yeah," I agreed. What could be nicer than a walk in the dark on the last night of summer with Gerard Way? Nothing.

I had been telling myself through this whole day that today is the day I should tell him that I…have…these…feelings for him, and every time I see him I want to kiss him, and I think he's beautiful and talented and the greatest person I've ever met, and I love him and want to be with him every second of every day. I wouldn't actually _say_ those things, but I kept telling myself that I had to tell him. 'Cause it was eating me up inside, being with him but unable to kiss him, not having him know what I felt. And I thought…if he didn't…like me back…I mean, I hope that he won't hate me. I don't think he's that kind of person. I think we could still be friends and everything.

But I was so afraid. I tried to build myself up inside as I walked with him, our hands nearly touching as we walked side by side; I tried to prepare and make myself believe that I _was_ going to tell him, that I had to tell him tonight. I had thought about this all day and had been unable to do it, so now was the time…

We were at my house sooner than I ever would have thought possible. The stress was making time seem to race. We stopped before the steps of the porch. Okay, I thought. I can do this. I can say it. It's just a few words, you can do this…

I looked at him in the lamplight, taking a breath to speak, but he caught my eyes and held them with his, and I couldn't say it. He smiled and I smiled back, letting go of my determination, and then cursing myself for doing it. Focus, Frank.

"Thanks for coming with us," Gerard said.

"Thanks for inviting me," I answered. That had been so easy to say, why couldn't everything else I wanted to say be just as easy?

"I…I guess I should go. Mikey probably misses me…"

"Yeah," I said, smiling. "I guess I'll…see you later?"

"Yeah. Tomorrow."

"Okay."

He turned and he was walking away. He was walking away and I hadn't said it. I felt this horrible sinking in my heart, and I wanted to call to him but I couldn't, and I didn't know what to say if I did. "Gerard?" I asked uncertainly, the name bursting from my mouth against my will.

He was at the bottom of the drive, but he looked back at me, and our eyes met in the lamplight, and then he was coming back up the drive, quickly, and he was standing before me, and then…

And then his hands were on my face, and my heart suddenly stopped, and his lips touched gently against my mouth.

It was like…it was like all the world had stopped with the cessation of my heartbeat. Everything seemed to stand absolutely still; nothing was moving, no sounds were heard, my brain wasn't even functioning. All I knew was feeling, the feel of his lips gently kissing mine.

Gerard released me, pulling my lip a little as he drew back. He looked at my eyes with his perfect, glittering, hazel ones, questioning, uncertain, unknowing…

And then suddenly I was awake. I was aware. Suddenly I knew everything, and I knew I wasn't insane, or just now losing my mind. But maybe I was. But if I was, he was too. But it didn't matter any more, none of it mattered, because he…

"Gerard, I love you," I said honestly. I felt weak, uncontrollable even to myself.

Gerard just smiled, and leaned back in to kiss me again. This time I kissed him back, moaning with the need of him, my hands on his shoulder, his on my waist. Gerard's tongue brushed my lower lip and I realized weakly that he wanted me to let him in. I opened my lips a little more and his tongue came into my mouth, brushing against my teeth. My legs were so weak, my knees nearly giving out. I lost balance, stepping backward, and Gerard's hand slid to the small of my back to keep me from falling, never once breaking our kiss. I pressed my lips to his more firmly, feeling his tongue with mine, and then he let me into his mouth, let me do whatever I wanted. And I wanted so much. I took back my one step backward, pressing myself closer to him, needing to feel as much of him against me as I could. His hands slid under my shirt and up my stomach, giving me chills that made me gasp. He kissed the side of my mouth so he could suck on my lip ring, which was uncannily fantastic and made me extremely glad I had chose to get it. And then we stopped, needing to breathe, and Gerard pulled me against him and I rested my head on his shoulder. Our heartbeats gradually slowed in the faded lamplight. My mind was a chaotic mess, but in the center of my whirling thoughts was one that I clung to, one that was strong and that kept me sane, one that I couldn't have forgotten or put aside if I had wanted to.

Gerard loves me. I know this to be true.

"Frank," he said quietly, and I lifted my head so I could look at him. He didn't let go of me, and I didn't let go of him.

"I think maybe I owe you for staying at your house last night," he said.

I knew where Gerard was going, and I was smiling before he asked. "Do you wanna stay in mine?"

"Hellz yes," I responded, and he gave a small, crooked smile that melted my heart.

Together we walked back down the street, his hand in mine, mine in his. I felt warm and safe and uncontrollably happy.

Gerard Way loves me.

**:)**

**Xoxo,**

**Rebel Rose**


	7. Wanna Hv a Slumber Party n My Basement?

_Hey, I got a question,_

_Do You Wanna Have a Slumber Party in My Basement?_

_Do I make your heart beat like an 808 drum,_

_Is my love your drug? _

**:P**

When we opened the front door and stepped inside, the house seemed almost to be empty. Most of the lights were off and it was silent inside. Mikey looked up from the couch where he'd been waiting. He seemed a little surprised to see me, but at the same time almost as though he had expected this. "Hey, guys," he said, as though this was a normal time when I was coming over, which I guess it was, except that it was almost midnight. "I'll see you tomorrow," he said quietly, standing up and walking passed us on the way to his room. He smiled by way of goodnight, and then he was gone.

"Does Mikey…" I asked as Gerard led me by the hand down a dark hallway, "know that you…I mean, that you…like me?"

"Yes," Gerard said quietly. "He's always known."

"How long is always?"

"Ever since I decided I like you."

"Which was when?" I was so curious.

He took a slow breath, thinking about it. He pushed open a door and clicked a light switch, revealing a dark, wood staircase leading into the basement. "Since," he started, as we began our descent, Gerard still leading, still pulling me by the hand. "Since, the first day you came over, the day you brought your guitar. I thought I…kind of…liked you before, but I refused to believe it." He pushed open a new door and flipped on the lights. "This is my room."

Gerard's room was an absolute wreck; there were piles of stuff everywhere, art and other random objects covering every available surface. There were stacks of books and comics on the floor, CD cases stacked and scattered around the bed. I moved slowly into the room, still taking it all in. Gerard moved to the bed and shifted some random junk off of the mattress. "That bat is kind of creepy," I said, staring at what I assumed was once an actual bat, now frozen in glass with wings spread.

"That was my grandfather's paperweight," Gerard responded with a sweet little laugh.

That laugh made me forget about the dead animal in his room and turn back to him, only interested in the enigma that was Gerard Way. I approached him where he was sitting on the bed, and that crooked smile spread across his face as I came. I sat down on top of him, facing him, straddling his legs and placing my hands on his shoulders. "Hi," I said.

"Hi," said Gerard.

I leaned forward and kissed him gently, sucking on his lower lip just a little before quickly releasing and kissing him again. He moaned quietly as I did, his hands resting on the bed, holding himself upright as I kissed him. Then he suddenly grabbed me, twisting me around so I was sitting on the mattress. Gerard stood before I could catch him again, smiling teasingly as he walked across the room to the light switch. His sassy smile was the last thing I saw before the lights went out.

I threw myself onto the bed, determined to grab him as soon as he came back and pull him as close against me as I could. I heard his footsteps on the floor, slow and careful to avoid knocking anything over. I felt Gerard's weight as he sat down on the mattress, reaching in the dark for where he had last seen me.

I lunged and grabbed him around the waist, pulling him against me. My plan had worked perfectly. But Gerard moved with my momentum until he was lying on top of me, looking down at me in the dark. I could just see his eyes glinting in the sparse moonlight. I giggled before I could stop myself. I thought I saw him smiling, and then he bent and kissed me.

His kiss was like lightning, like sugar and guitar solos and caffeine. For several moments I was lost, forgetting completely my plan of domination. Then he drew back for a moment, my head cleared up just slightly, and I grabbed him again, pushing him to the side with all of my strength, rolling with him so that now I was the one looking down at him. I could tell Gerard had not expected me to do this; I didn't give him time to contemplate, kissing him again, kissing him over and over and over agian. He ran his hands over my back, and then I felt him grasp the hem of my t-shirt. Oh em gee. Breathe, Frankie.

Gerard slowly pulled my shirt up and I drew back, sitting up with him as he rose so he could pull my shirt off completely. Then I slowly pulled off his. As soon as I had his shirt off, Gerard leaned forward, grabbing me and kissing my neck. I felt his teeth gently biting as I pulled him into me, feeling his bare skin under my hands. Oh, Gerard, you're so perfect…

He was steadily pushing me down again, his lips returning to mine and washing my brain clean of all conscious thought. His hand pressed against my back, keeping me from falling backwards as he pushed me, pressing himself against me, his kisses moist and hot on my mouth.

Then we were down, and I was pushing him onto his side, kissing him tenderly with on hand on his shoulder. Gerard slid one hand down my hip to my thigh, pulling my leg between his. My heart was fluttering; he was sucking on my lip ring again and I love him and hate him for it. Then he shifted and gently kissed my jaw, my cheek. I closed my eyes and Gerard kissed them too, his lips like rose petals.

"Frank," he whispered in the dark.

"What?"

"I love you."

"Really, Gee?" I asked, giggling before I could stop myself. "I couldn't tell."

He bit my lower lip for that and I kissed the tip of his nose. "I love you too."

He made that noise like he was smiling in the dark, and his lips pressed against mine again, a warm, mushy, passionate kiss better than all the kisses I'd ever received. I kissed him back, feeling surreal. Finally we broke away, Gerard gently sucking at my lower lip, something I was starting to recognize and expect from him. Then he kissed me again, quickly, desperately, and at last we faced each other in the dark.

Gerard put his arms around me and pulled me to him. His bare skin against mine was just…awesome.

"Good night, Frank," he whispered.

"Good night, Gerard," I whispered back.

I breathed, and every breath smelled wonderfully of him. Slowly I fell asleep to the steady beat of his heart.

**_And I'm melting...I'm melting_**

**_In your eyes,_**

**_I lost my place,_**

**_Could stay a while_**

**_And I'm melting..._**

**Xoxo,**

**Rebel Rose**


	8. Mine

**CosmicZombie, I seriously wrote this right after I read your review today. Thank you so much, it made me so happy :) So, this is for you, I guess :P**

_Mine_

"Gerard!"

I blinked my eyes blearily open. My heart suddenly jumped into overdrive; Gerard. Gerard was right next to me, his face like, an inch from mine. Oh em gee, I want to kiss him -

"Gerard!"

Voice. Was that Mikey?

My heart jumped again as Gerard sighed and his eyes flickered open. He looked so tired and weak and beautiful and all I wanted in the _world_ was to kiss him. That was when I realized I could. I leaned over quickly and kissed his mouth gently. He was still partially asleep and didn't kiss me back, but his eyes met mine and I know he liked it.

Mikey was still shouting from somewhere upstairs. I could hear his footsteps on the hardwood as he spoke. "Someone called the house a few minutes ago and said something about opportunities and how they're pleased to have met you or something, I think it means they want to hire you…"

Gerard's eyes widened. "Holy shit. Frank!" He was out of bed in a moment. "A job! I might have a job!"

"Congratulations, Gee," I said, smiling bemusedly as I watched him dancing around the room and searching through his drawers for a clean shirt. I got up as he was pulling on a black button-front. I came over to him as he started on the buttons, feeling really daring and reckless as I took the cloth from his hands and carefully began buttoning the shirt for him. He probably needed me to do it anyway; he was so excited and nervous, his hands were almost shaking.

"Do I look okay?" he asked nervously, brushing his hand through his hair.

I tried not to laugh at him. He was so cute. "Gee, you look fine," I said as he turned to a cracked mirror on the other side of the room. "And dude, you're not about to go to your new job, you're just going upstairs."

"Oh, right," he said, turning automatically to the door. What? No you're not, Gerard. You're not getting away from me so easily.

"Wait a second," I said, grabbing him by the back of his shirt. "You haven't received your new-job congratulations yet."

"I don't really know that I actually _have_ the job," he said, all self-deprecating.

I was already putting my arms around him, one around his waist, one hand sliding through his hair to the back of his head so I could pull him closer to me. "I don't care," I whispered. I heard him give this gentle, breathy laugh right before I kissed him. I had meant to kiss him really gently, feather light, but once I was touching his lips I kind of lost all my control and my intentions. I had also meant to just kiss him for a few seconds and let him go up to see who had called, but I couldn't pull myself away. I kissed him, and kept kissing him until I had messed up his hair and wrinkled his shirt and I was gasping for breath and clinging to him to stay on my feet, and his breath was quick and hot against my face every time I paused to breathe. Finally, finally, delirium from lack of oxygen forced me to stop. I was clinging to Gerard's neck and he was clinging to my waist and we were both gasping. "Sorry," I whispered.

Gerard looked slightly shocked, and suddenly bent and kissed me again, hard. Then he drew away quickly. "Don't apologize to me," he muttered, looking awkwardly at the floor.

I smiled a little, bemused, and heard Mikey shouting something incomprehensible down the stairs. "Oh, crap, we should be up there," I said.

I followed Gerard to the door and he glanced back at me, giving me the same bemused smile I had just been wearing. "You gonna put on a shirt? Mikey might freak out if he sees you, with me, without one."

"Oh," I said, blushing a little as Gerard laughed. I hurried back to the bed and found my t-shirt from yesterday. It was kind of wrinkled and it smelled bad - I hoped he wouldn't hug me too closely before I had a chance to change. "Okay. Let's go."

We climbed the stairs quickly and came up into the main house. Mikey was just walking out of the kitchen towards the living room, a steaming coffee mug in his hand. "Finally," he said when he saw us. "Hey, Frank."

"Hey, Mikey," I said, kind of breathless. It was finally starting to catch up to me. I was with Gerard. I was with Gerard and he loved me and kissed me and I was in his house and he held me all last night and…and yeah. Maybe it was kind of mushy and pathetic, but yes, it was making me breathless. Deal with it.

"Mikey, who called?" Gerard asked desperately.

Mikey raised his eyebrows as he took a long sip of coffee. This, I thought, was probably the first time Gerard had put anything before coffee in the morning. "The printing company, I think."

"Newspaper," Gerard corrected.

"Yeah, whatever. So what kind of job did you apply for there?"

"Design and coordination," Gerard responded, already in the kitchen looking for coffee. Now that he knew what was happening, he didn't seem quite so excited about it. "It's just a lame job. But…"

"It's a job," Mikey finished, watching him fill a coffee mug.

I was expecting him to drink the coffee himself, but instead he handed it to me with a faint smile. He was so sweet.

"So when do they want me there?" he asked, filling another mug for himself.

"They want you to call back."

"Did they leave a number?"

"Yeah. I took it for you, it's there on the frige."

Gerard and I both glanced at it. The number was stuck to the frige next to a photo of Gerard, apparently screaming about something while Bert McCracken hugged him from the side. Mikey was in the background, his face locked automatically in a stoic expression bordering on disapproval, but his eyes showing his real amusement. I thought I saw Ray sitting behind them, but I couldn't tell.

Gerard pulled the number off the refrigerator and studied it. "Thanks, Mikey, you're awesome," he decided, giving his brother a quick hug as he went out into the living room.

I sat next to him, sipping the coffee he gave me, while he called the number. The conversation sounded promising. He hung up, looking caught between excitement and weariness, then stood up. "Okay, I'm going to go," he said. "They want me in their office. And I think they're going to give me the job."

"Gee, that's awesome," I said, smiling at him. I started to raise my coffee mug when he grabbed me by both arms and pulled me off the couch, hugging me close. I hid my smile in his shoulder. This was so awesome.

"Oh, maybe you should come with me," he mumbled. He drew back a little, though not quite letting me go. "You want a ride home?" "That'd be nice," I agreed.

"Mikey, I'm going to leave," he called into the kitchen.

"Okay. Good luck, Gee."

"Thanks."

Gerard drove fast. He turned the music up louder than usual and drove really fast. "Don't die," I warned him as I stepped out of the car. "Or I'll kill you."

"Okay," he said, giving me a lopsided smile as I closed the door.

I sighed deeply as I climbed the front porch steps. My mom, I realized, was going to be so pissed off. I hadn't even come home last night, as far as she knew. Unless she had seen me outside the house, in which case she might not be so mad. Although that would mean she saw Gerard kissing me. That might be really, really bad.

Usually I tell her when I'm home, but today I crept into the house, being cautious while trying not to seem like I was being cautious in case she was sitting in the living room watching me.

She wasn't. I realized as I was climbing the stairs that it was because it was probably after nine, and she was already at work. Okay. I stomped the rest of the way up.

The first thing I did was throw off my Misfits t-shirt from yesterday and search for something somewhat more clean. Then I put on more red eye shadow, even though my shadow from yesterday hadn't completely worn off yet.

I felt like I was on autopilot. I moved about the house, fixing breakfast, turning on the TV. But I wasn't thinking about any of the things I was doing, just doing them, my mind completely occupied with Gerard. Gerard Gerard Gerard, and all the memories I had of him last night, and yesterday, and this morning. This still, even now, just, doesn't even, really, feel real to me. This just can't be real. I can't believe he really likes me. And even if he does, I added once I realized it was impossible to deny that he did, he can't like me as much as I like him. It's just not possible.

Then I kicked that voice in the teeth. Gerard is mine. And I'm completely and irrevocably his.

**Xoxo,**

**Rebel Rose**


End file.
